Savior Self
by CortessaBlatt
Summary: Yet another rendition of the game with a female Revan. If you’ve read my renditions before, you know there’s nothing to fear… much. Please read, please reply. More chapters to come.
1. The Endar Spire

**Savior Self**

_Haha. Get it? SAVIOR SELF? HAHAHAH!_

_Anyway… _

_Yet another rendition of the game with a female Revan. If you've read my renditions before, you know there's nothing to fear… much. Please read, please reply. - More chapters to come._

**Rated PG13 **– The game itself is rated Teen so I figured I'd match it.

**Disclaimer: **My dog owns Star Wars, but I don't.

**Savior Self**

Trask Ulgo wrinkled his nose at the brown slush in his cup. What _was_ that? It looked like Aephian fodder… or what was left of Aephian fodder once it had been eaten and digested. Trill touched his shoulder, tilting her head to one side. What a doll. She was too innocent and sweet to be a Republic soldier, though she sure as hell couldn't brew caffa.

"What's wrong with it?" she asked him in that soft, slanted accent of hers.

Trask shrugged, forcing himself to drink it. So, not only did it look like Aephian fodder, it tasted like it too. He could feel his face twist itself into a knot for a moment before he could fix it. "It's great," he managed to croak.

Trill grinned proudly and bounced off, and Giles was laughing at him on the other side of the room. Trask glared at him.

"Just wait until it's your turn to brew, buddy –" he began, when there was a violent impact from the right. Trask hit the ground, covering his head and letting the caffa cup go flying. Trill screamed and rolled over him, and Giles let out a faint gurgle was his head was impaled by a sheet of metal. Blood spurted forth and ran over the floor, but Trask could hardly notice, for there was sickening crunch and a hiss and the room seemed to be getting smaller. Trask's head spun. Air! Where was the air? He looked around desperately.

Air was being sucked out a crack in the window. Duraglass wasn't holding out against this onslaught? That wasn't good. They needed to get out of there, and fast.

Swearing violently in as many languages as he could think up, Trask grabbed Trill's limp body by the middle and hauled her out of the room, into the main corridors. He could hear the heavy clink of booted feet on the floor and began to panic. He tried to drag Trill faster, but in doing so he backed up against a heated, leaking generator pipe. He heard the click and the warning hiss, and he lunged out of the way, trying to bring Trill with him, but the force of the explosion sent her flying like a rag-doll through the air. He didn't stop to watch where she landed. She was certainly dead now.

Bleeding at the cheek with singed fingers and knees, Trask began sprinting for the bunkers before whatever had boarded their ship could reach him. He found himself bounding over bodies as he went along, some of which had obvious blaster wounds smoking from their heads and bellies.

Sith.

It had to be the Sith.

Trask found his own bunker and worked to open the door, preparing the security locks in case the Sith tried to enter. He barreled through the door and sank to his knees, gasping for breath.

What was he going to do now? He had to escape. That's right. The escape pods. One of them might be working. But Bastila… Bastila… he had to make sure that woman made it out alive, or he'd be skinned for leaving her to die. He had to hurry, though. If they waited much longer the escape pods would be gone. He looked up and spotted the girl on the bed, staring at him, the sheets drawn up to her chin, her eyes wide and frightened.

Well, wasn't she lovely? How could she have slept through that assault?

Trask got to his feet, looking her over. He couldn't see much but her riled brown hair and unstaring blue eyes, and those full, rouged lips that pouted unhappily. She looked like a child. He would have to address her with urgency if he was going to get her off this ship alive.

Brushing himself off, he said brusquely, "We've been ambushed by a Sith battle fleet! The Endar Spire is under attack! Hurry up – we don't have much time!" He had already started for the door when the woman stood up, letting the sheets fall and distracting him. _Goodness_. How had he missed _that_ in the three months he'd spent working with her? But it didn't matter. She was talking to him, sounding groggy and confused.

"Who are you?"

He couldn't shun his duty. Not now. Biting his lip at having to explain this so slowly, he said, "I'm Trask Ulgo, ensign with the Republic Fleet. I'm your bunk mate here on the Endar Spire. We work opposite shifts; I guess that's why you haven't seen me before." Like he hadn't seen her before. Well, he was certainly seeing her now. He shook his head. Enough dallying. "Now hurry up, we have to find Bastila! We have to make sure she makes it off the ship alive!"

The poor wench blinked at him, drawing her brows together. "Who's Bastila?"

Trask lost his composure. His jaw dropped. _Who's Bastila? _Was she _joking_? But all the same he chose to explain, for the sake of shutting this woman up. "Bastila's the commanding officer on the Endar Spire. Well, not an officer, really… But she's the one in charge of this mission." Of course, their mission, as far as Trask knew, wasn't a serious one. Lick the boots of the governors of Taris and insure that they remained with the Republic. He noticed the girl looked ill-at-ease, like she didn't want to leave. No, no, he had wasted enough time to leave her there. "One of our primary duties is to guarantee her survival in the event of an enemy attack! You swore an oath just like everyone else on this mission; Now it's time to make good on that oath!"

She sobbed once, but nodded. Wow, did she ever look upset. What was her problem? Feeling slightly guilty for snapping, Trask patted her on the shoulder and tried to make up for it. "I heard what everyone's saying about you," he offered gently, softly. "You've explored the farthest reaches of the galaxy, you've visited planets I've never even heard of. People with your skills and abilities are hard to find; it's no wonder the Republic recruited you for this mission. But now's the time to prove yourself! I know you're a scout and not a soldier, but Bastila needs all troops at her side during this attack."

His gentle urgings seemed to help the poor girl. She nodded. "Okay, let's go help Bastila," she said quietly.

Trask became brisk again. "So hurry up and grab your gear. You need to suit up so we can get out of here." He couldn't have her wandering around in her underwear. The Sith would kill her in a second.

The girl nodded. "Okay," she said, and gathered her things from the footlocker near her bed. She dressed quickly, giving her sword a readying twirl. She nodded to him, waiting for his command.

"Okay," he said. "Let's move out."

The girl started for the door without him. He grasped her arm instantly, frowning.

"What?" she asked.

"We should stick together; you'll have more success with a party than on your own," he told her. He couldn't risk her wandering the halls and getting shot. And he himself was worried – he doubted he could hold out against so many Sith on his own.

"Two is a party?" she asked. He gawked. Cheeky! She was cheeky! He never would have guessed! But matters over, he had to get them out of here.

Shaking his head, he made up a story as to why the door was locked. If he admitted that he had closed it behind him out of cowardice, she might laugh, and nothing is more demeaning than being laughed at by a woman. "Because of the attack this room is lockdown, but don't worry – I've got the override codes. You'll have to use me to unlock the door."

She looked him up and down. He flushed. "GOT IT!" he snapped.

"Okay," she said, and stepped back to let him open the door.

Trask stepped up and tapped the door. It opened with a whoosh. He bowed at her grandly. "Now that the door is open you better take the lead again," he told her. Human shield.

She wrinkled her nose at him and headed through the door, pausing to pat a droid on the head. The droid growled and fizzled in reply. Suddenly she stopped and Trask could hear it – the buzz of their comm.'s. He turned his on and Carth appeared, shoulders erect, face set, but his eyes were shining with worry.

"This is Carth Onasi. The Sith are threatening to overrun our position. We can't hold out long against their firepower. All hands to the bridge!" And then he cut out.

The girl looked at Trask uncertainly. Sensing her question, he said, "That was Carth contacting us on our portable communicators. He's one of the Republic's best pilots. He's seen more combat than the rest of us put together. If he says things are bad, you better believe it."

"Then we should get moving," the girl said.

Trask squared his shoulders, not about to be ordered around by a woman. "We have to get to the bridge and help defend Bastila!" He noted that she looked a little flighty, like she was ready to get lost. He groaned. "There's a map of the Endar Spire and a copy of Carth's message in your electronic journal, just in case we get separated."

"Let's move out."

"Whatever." He watched with a coy, evil grin as she tried to open the next door. It was locked, of course. After a few minutes of malicious fun, he said, "That door's locked, dear, and I don't have the codes to open it. You'll have to use your security skill on it if we want to get past."

She glared at him. "Fine." She turned around and got to work, fiddling with the wires until the door gave a satisfying hiss and slid open. They were greeted with a party of Sith.

They fought their way through the ship. That woman was a crap fighter if Trask had ever seen one. She had no idea what she was doing and got shot up worse than a target shot, but she still managed to live. It was unnerving. They reached the bridge and came upon a huge wave of Sith, but there was an explosion and the majority of them – and some Republic pilots – were killed. The girl looked edgy as she picked their corpses for goods.

Trask got the suspicion that she used to be more of an assassin rather than a scout.

They continued on their way, and no matter how hard Trask looked he could find no sign of Bastila. Perhaps she had left. That would have been wise.

The girl opened a door and stopped. She seemed to have sensed something. "We shouldn't go this way," she said.

Trask ignored her, listening. There was a noise behind a door. "There's something behind here," he said, pushing open the door. His heart leapt to his throat and he felt weak. "Damn – another Dark Jedi!" He looked back at the girl, who was shaking. She couldn't fight him, but Trask might be able to… He knew he might be able to… It made sense, and he knew he wasn't going to live much longer anyway. He was, what, now? He was somewhere in his forties, wasn't it? Yes. And the girl… why, she had barely reached adulthood. She had so much to look forward to. So Trask decided to take the leap. "I'll hold him off. You get to the escape pods. Go!" He stepped through the door and closed it, sealing out her cries, as the Dark Jedi stepped up and claimed his prey.

------

The girl, in fact, was named Cortessa Blatt, and she was left standing there, numb, listening to Trask's screams on the other side of the door. She was battling back tears. Though he had been a little bit… rude… and abrupt… and had eyed her shirt far too much, he was a good person, in the end. But she knew she could not let his sacrifice hold no meaning. She turned and sprinted through the door, and was greeted again by Carth Onasi.

"This is Carth Onasi on your personal communicator. I'm tracking your position through the Endar Spire's life support systems." Cortessa looked him over. She hadn't realized a hologram could look so stuffy. But Carth continued on. "Bastila's escape pod is away – you're the last surviving crew member on the Endar Spire." These words hurt. She was alone? Everyone else had been killed? The thought made her feel a little ill and vulgar and superfluous. Carth was still talking. "I can't wait for you much longer; you have to get to the escape pods! But be careful. There's a Sith patrol just down the corridor. Use your stealth skills to sneak past him."

"How'd you know about my…?"

"Use your stealth skills to sneak past him, dammit."

"Okay, okay." The comm. fizzled out.

She turned her stealth on and crept at an agonizingly slow pace through the corridor. She walked right past a Sith, opened the door and, for the first time, came upon a wave of Sith alone. She blanched, feeling the weight of her sword, and realized she needed double the power. She drew another sword from her pack and twirled them both between her fingers.

"Come and get me!" she barked.

The Sith looked left to right. They couldn't see her.

She fell silent and resumed creeping past them. The next door wouldn't open and she held her breath as she silently began messing with the computer consol nearby. She found the option to fry some Sith and did so happily. The door opened then to her will. Still stealthy, she crept over the many bodies on the floor, and came to another door. Cautiously, she opened it.

Carth looked up, his fingers flying to his blasters. "Who's there?" he barked.

Cortessa shut off her stealth and stared at him. He looked nothing like his hologram self. This Carth was not stuffy, but sad and serious, with obviously warm hands but a weak sense of self. Seeing him made her feel sorry for him.

Carth's face brightened and he stuffed his blasters in his belt again. "You made it just in time! There's only one active escape pod left. Come on, we can hide out in the planet below!" He seemed to be struggling with the fact that she was a woman. He kept looking her over like he couldn't believe it was true.

Cortessa rested her hands on her hips, not quite sure whether she would rather die or jump in a cramped escape pod with an unknown man. "Who are you?"

Carth's voice grew gentle. "I'm a soldier with the Republic, like you. We're the last two crew members left on the Endar Spire. Bastila's escape pod is already gone, so there's no reason for us to stick around and get shot by the Sith." His voice had regained volume. "Now come on – there'll be time for questions later!"

Cortessa uncertainly approached the escape pod. "I'm not…" she began, but she felt a pair of firm hands on her shoulder blades, pushing her violently inside. She crumpled on the floor. The hatch steamed as a blaster shot missed it by inches. Carth tumbled in after her and closed it with a mechanical hiss. They were plunged into darkness, save for a small, glowing computer panel.

"Here we go!" Carth said, pressing a button. There was a roar and they were launched with a sickening lurch into space.

Cortessa screamed as the city of Taris rose up to meet them.

------

**Author's Notes: **There you go. Something to keep you busy while I work on the next chapters of the Leviathan and Backwater Planet. Enjoy. c",)


	2. A Wounded Woman

**Savior Self**

_Taris part one._

**Rated PG13**

**Disclaimer: **Wouldn't you be afraid if I _was_ George Lucas?

**Savior Self**

Taris rose up fast and hard. Carth Onasi tried desperately to guide the little escape pod, gritting his teeth against the searing heat of entry, sweat rolling liberally down his temples. He gripped the sticks tightly, using the last bit of wit he had left to buckle up and slip a rubber tube between his teeth. "Geh reh-ee," he spat over the tube, and the girl nodded, strapping herself up in her seat and slipping a rubber tube into her mouth as well.

The escape pod rattled like a pea in a tin can. The pod rolled and Carth had to steer them backwards and upside-down, jerking fiercely on the sticks, his face twisted up in his concentration. They would make it. He would make sure of it.

The ground struck them violently. His muscles screamed at the pain, and his head rung. Fire burst out of the consol. His soldier's training finally kicked him full-time and he unbuckled himself with a slap to the chest. He beat the flames away from himself, spitting out the rubber tube, and turned to his companion. "Get up! We have to move!" he barked.

But she didn't move. The rubber tube slowly slid, slick with saliva, from her lips and landed mutely on the ground. Her head lolled once and she sat still. Carth studied her for a moment. How on Telos had he gotten saddled with a _girl_?

Regardless, she was out cold. The fire gave a menacing crackle and a spark leapt out at him. He drew a small blade from his pocket and cut the girl's straps loose, for he didn't dare slap her chest to release her. No longer held back by her belts, she lurched forward, almost crumpling to the floor. Carth hissed and swore. Blood had stained her hair and neck red, and there was a clear wound to the back of her head, split wide after being impaled with some sheet metal.

Wincing, he gathered her up in his arms and dragged her hastily from the pod. The shiny, cold, hard metal of Taris's walkways clunked beneath his feet and he hurriedly ripped off some of his shirt to make a tourniquet around her head. She let out a feeble moan, arching her back against his arms. He tightened his grip and continued dragging her out of the way.

Out of nowhere came a wave of Rodians and Ithorians, armed to the teeth, to strip the fresh pod of any supplies. Carth swore as he was surrounded and lit a charge with his teeth. The girl was heaving sickly in his arms, some strange green spittle swelling on her lips. The charge lit and the pod blew up. Parts showered down over the aliens and Carth hastened to make his escape, dragging the girl with all of his might.

He slipped into the shadows, under an overhanging panel that had almost fallen off of a nearby building, and held the woman close to his chest, pulling his legs in and bowing his head to avoid being spotted. He could feel her hot breath in his ear, stinking of blood and death. She would die soon if he didn't tend to her. Hastily, he removed the bandage and fumbled with a medpack in his bag. He ripped it open and slapped it to the back of her head, pressing his fingers against the wound and massaging, working the medicine in, since her system was probably too shot to suck it up itself. The feeling sent cold tingles down his fingertips. He quickly stopped. He hadn't touched a woman in ages.

Once the alien scavengers had left, Carth emerged from the shadows, carrying the girl in his arms still, and made his way craftily to the apartments. He glanced behind him once to see the Sith form a clot around the escape pod, checking for salvage. Carth continued down the hall as the girl in his arms moaned again, quietly. Alone there was an old janitor, staring at him with wide blue eyes, his wrinkled, sun-spotted hands clutching his broom tightly. They were probably quite a sigh to behold, Carth reasoned to himself as he wandered past. A burned, dirty man and a bloody, sweaty, sick woman wandering the halls in the very beginning of the morning, of all things!

But the janitor didn't comment as Carth overrode the security on a nearby apartment door. There wasn't a mark on the door that meant that it was occupied, so he decided he might as well take it. The door gave way easily to his hands, and he stepped back as it slid open with a whoosh. Hoisting the wounded girl higher up on his shoulder, he stepped inside and set her down on the bed, listening as the door clicked shut.

"No, no, no," the girl mumbled, rolling about slightly. Carth studied her for a moment.

A _woman_. _A woman_. He was now stuck in a room with a _woman_, the vile things. Sneaky, tricky, and horribly alluring, they all were, and it was increasingly dangerous because this one was going to die.

Well, as long as Carth had a hand in it, perhaps she wouldn't die. But that would involve touching her… did he want to? Yes, of course! He had to! Again, his soldier's training slapped him hard. _Get to it. Don't let her die_.

He rolled her over onto her stomach and she let out a cry and began thrashing, wriggling on the bed like a worm. Carth did what he had to do, and got onto the bed as well, pinning her down with his knee as he worked to bandage the back of her head. She had begun squawking with fear, crying and blubbering something awful, but Carth ignored it. Years of listening to comrades scream as they were killed had forced a strange detachment on him.

The kolto had left a pale ring around the wound and he could see clearly where some metal had been imbedded. He swore and, very, very, very reluctantly, reached inside and pulled it out. She screamed even louder and he began to get irritated. He would have put her out, normally, but he knew that she was unstable and any kind of sedative might make her condition worse. So, with some sort of bitter anger for the world, he continued his work, applying a fresh dose of kolto and again tying up her head with a strip from his shirt.

If this kept up much longer, he wouldn't have any of his shirt left.

Finally she seemed to calm down. Carefully, he climbed off of her, rolling her back onto her back to keep the pressure on her wound. She heaved a few times, turning sickly green, and vomited all over herself.

Carth was used to it, of course. Sick men on the job, his pregnant wife, his newborn son… but that was long ago, wasn't it? He sighed, wandering into the bathroom and grabbing some wet cloths before he returned and mopped her up. Now he wasn't really sure if she would make it. Her moans were garbled and rough, bringing fresh green spittle to the surface. Carth knew that he would have to seek out a doctor eventually if things didn't let up.

As a final precaution, he tipped half a medpack into her mouth and forced her to swallow. She coughed some of that back up, too.

Her clothes were soiled and bloody, and needed to be washed. Carth reluctantly stripped her to her underwear and sent the clothes out to be cleaned. He avoided looking too closely at her from then on. It flustered him to see the skin of some unknown woman.

So this left him in an apartment in the middle of upper Taris, with no money, with no supplies, with no _clothes_, with a dying woman, and with no way out. She took up one of the beds, and so he took the other, laying out his jacket to stand there in his slowly shrinking shirt. He glanced out the window, watching the air speeders zoom by. In the other room, a woman was sobbing.

He didn't like Taris.

------

The next day his strange new girl wasn't any better. She continually broke out in random shrieks, screaming at no one to go away, and never come back. She beat the air with her tiny little fists, squirming and writhing. Carth sometimes pinned her down again to calm her, but he only succeeded in making it worse.

As the next few days went by, he decided it wasn't any good to wander around calling her, "that girl." So he dug around in her equipment pack until he found her datapad. He read up on her ideas and wanderings, and decided that probably wasn't for the best in the end. She had some… dodgy things she had to say… a little bit racy and slurry, to be honest. She seemed to have a fondness for losing Pazaak and then stealing her opponent's clothes… and for gizka fodder. What kind of girl liked to eat gizka fodder? Or did she eat it?

Regardless, it didn't tell him much, other than that she used to bunk with Trask Ulgo, an old friend. It was sad that he was gone, but there was no point mourning now. Hundreds were dead – it was surprising that any of them were even around to think about it.

However, Carth still needed to find out more about this girl, so he found the nearest consol, and hacked in. A few minutes later he browsed around through service records, coming up with a face and a name. The face was clearly hers: masculine in a way, but at the same time given something special by the blue eyes that struck out against her tan skin. He studied this picture for a moment, for he actually hadn't seen much of her while she was awake. He had been too worried about the Sith.

The face was fine enough, but the name that struck him was almost not fitting: Cortessa Blatt.

Blatt.

He had never heard of a Blatt before. Where had that name come from? Onasi had come from an Iridorian planet, but somehow rubbed off onto Telos citizens. Never before had Carth come across anything similar to Blatt.

Sighing, he hacked up into more of her, and found that most of her past had been left in holes and small spaces. He frowned. From a far away planet… no parents… no past. He didn't like it. He would have to ask her to fill in the blanks, and immediately something struck him. His old self, his suspicious self, the detached self that would never touch her or speak to her or let himself trust her. He hated that self, but it closed over him and owned him.

Carth continued on, exploring the planet. He came across several people, who explained to him the goings-on on this planet. Apparently the Sith had taken over, and some escape pods had crashed in the lowest floor of the city – the Undercity. Just wonderful. With the few credits he had left, Carth bought some medpacks, and then wandered the streets for a while. There was no way they were getting off this planet without help. And Bastila… Bastila was his mission, he had to remember that. He needed to find Bastila. Perhaps, with her, he could have enough power to get off of this rock.

When scouting became boring, Carth headed back to his apartment, and the girl… Blatt… Cortessa Blatt… was moaning and screaming all over again, bucking and kicking with more vigor than ever before. He stared, quailing at the ferocity of her attack on the unknown, but finally she stopped, her eyes snapping open, and she took in a deep breath.

"Whoa," he muttered, stepping up. She looked over to him and jumped, falling backwards, almost off of the bed. He held up a hand, letting her know he wasn't there to harm her.

She scrambled to her feet, standing there with the sheets clutched to her body, one hand cautiously running through her hair and patting the strip of shirt tied around her head. Her pretty blue eyes were wide with fright and her thick lips were parted as she breathed heavily.

Carth sensed his opportunity, looking her up and down, now that she was protected by the sheets. "Good to see you up, instead of thrashing around in your sleep," he said gently, fixing his eyes on her face, even as she stepped back. "You must have been having one hell of a nightmare. I was wondering if you were ever going to wake up."

Her lips quivered. She looked more confused and innocent than ever. "Who are you?" she whispered.

"I'm Carth, one of the Republic soldiers from the Endar Spire," he said, praying to the gods she didn't have amnesia and that he himself was just a forgettable face. To test it, he offered, "I was with you on the escape pod, do you remember?"

Cortessa seemed to get it then. Her eyes seemed to darken some as she seemed to come back into herself. "Carth, the one on the communicator," she said. "I remember."

Carth sighed with relief.

"Where are we?" she asked, looking around and still awkwardly fingering her bandage.

"Well, you've been slipping in and out of consciousness for a couple of days so I imagine you're pretty confused about things," Carth said warmly, but she still seemed a little bit off… shaky. "Look, try not to worry. We're safe… at least for the moment."

"Where are we?" she repeated.

"We're in an abandoned apartment on the planet of Taris," he said. "You were banged up pretty bad when our escape pod crashed, but luckily I wasn't seriously hurt." She raised an eyebrow, feeling her wound with more interest. Carth continued. "I was able to drag you away from our crash site in all the confusion, and I stumbled onto this abandoned apartment. By the time the Sith were on the scene, we were long gone."

Cortessa still fingered her bandage.

"I did that," Carth offered. "Some sheet metal…"

She looked at him, offering a weak smile. "I guess I owe you my life. Thanks."

Carth flushed, shocking himself. He distanced himself from her, refusing to allow himself to be seduced like that. "You don't have to thank me," he said. "I've never abandoned anyone on a mission, and I'm not about to start now." She seemed to droop dejectedly. He fixed his eyes on the wall behind her left ear. "Besides, I'm going to need your help. Taris is under Sith control. Their fleet is orbiting the planet, they've declared martial law, and they've imposed a planet-wide quarantine. But I've been in worse spots."

"I have, too," Cortessa offered.

Carth looked her over again, unintentionally. "I saw on your service records that you understand a remarkable number of alien languages. That's pretty rare in a raw recruit, but it should come in handy while we're stranded on a foreign world. There's no way the Republic will be able to get anyone through the Sith blockade to help us. If we're going to find Bastila and get off this planet, we can't rely on anybody but ourselves."

Cortessa looked confused, her eyes darting over his face. "Bastila… the one from the Endar Spire, right? Why is it so important to find her?" she asked, twirling a strand of her soiled hair between her fingers.

Carth was appalled. He stared for a moment before he regained his composure somewhat. "That smack to your head did more damage than I thought. Bastila's a Jedi. She was with the strike team that killed Darth Revan, Malak's Sith master." He could hardly believe he was explaining this to her. Everyone knew what had happened! But apparently she didn't. Either she had forgotten, or she had never been informed. He found the latter not as likely as the first, and the first was unlikely already. "Bastila is the key to the whole Republic war effort. The Sith must have found out she was on the Endar Spire and sent an ambush for us in this system. I believe Bastila was on one of the escape pods that crashed down here on Taris. For the sake of the Republic war effort, we have to try and save her." That was off of the top of his head, but suddenly it seemed to be entirely true. They didn't just need Bastila to get off of this planet – they needed her to succeed in the war.

Cortessa nodded. "Any idea where we should start looking for Bastila?"

Carth smiled at last. "While you were out I did some scouting around. There are reports of a couple escape pods crashing down into the Undercity. That's probably a good place to start. But the Undercity is a dangerous place. We don't want to go in there unprepared. It won't do Bastila any good if we go and get ourselves killed." Especially after the effort it had taken to bring Cortessa to; Carth didn't want that time to be in vain.

Cortessa seemed to be getting bored, or anxious, or both. "Come on," she mumbled. "I want to scout this planet out a bit." She started for the door, but Carth spoke up to slow her down.

"Good idea. We can use this abandoned apartment as a base, and we can probably get some equipment and supplies here in the Upper City. Just try to remember to keep a low profile." He looked her over again. "Like getting some clothes on."

She flushed and glared at him. "You talk too much," she replied shortly, and began rummaging around in the footlocker near the window. Instead of bending down she crouched to avoid showing more than she wanted to. Carth looked away and resumed talking.

"I've heard some grim stories about the Dark Jedi interrogation techniques," he said randomly, out of nowhere. "They say the Force can do terrible things to a mind. It can wipe away your memories and destroy your very identity."

"What does that have to do with us?" Cortessa mused aloud, tossing one of Carth's shirts across the room. He retrieved it calmly and handed it back.

"Nothing. But I figure if we don't do anything stupid we should be okay." She looked at him suspiciously and he lost himself for a moment. He began to stammer like he often did when emotion ran a little high. "I mean, after all, they're… they're looking for Bastila not a couple of grunts like us."

Cortessa was still staring, her eyebrows raised.

Carth cleared his throat. "Alright, soldier, let's move out," he said, the words just flowing from his tongue. In a way he was talking to himself, rather than her. He wandered off to the opposite side of the room and didn't look at her again.

She dressed in a tight, orange combat suit, turning this way and that to break it in a little. She fixed up her boots and stood there for a moment, looking out the window, chewing on her lip. The drone of air speeders was the only sound, humming monotonously through the room.

Carth looked to the ceiling, then back down to the floor, then left to right, and Cortessa approached him, her hands clasped behind her back. He blinked, stepping back to keep his distance.

"Yes? What's on your mind?" he asked.

She smiled, tilting her head to one side winningly. "I'd like to know more about you, Carth," she said.

Carth was a little bit startled. He coughed, looking left to right once before he looked back at her. "Wha? Me?" For some reason, he felt as if he would be the last person she'd ask. Apparently not. He shook his head. "Well, I've been a star-pilot for the Republic for years. I've seen more than my share of wars… I fought in the Mandalorian Wars before all this started. But with all that, I've never experienced anything like the slaughter these Sith animals can unleash. Not even the Mandalorians were that senseless." He was skipping around personal details for now. She didn't need to know who he was, just what he did, so that they could get along. He decided to only give her a fraction of his past by talking about his home world. "My home world was one of the first planets to fall to Malak's fleet. The Sith bombed it into submission and there wasn't a damn thing our Republic forces could do to stop them!" Whoops. _Damn_. He bit his tongue. He had slipped in anger. He hated himself.

Cortessa caught it, too. "You're talking like it's your fault," she murmured. "Like you failed somehow."

Carth was flustered. "It shouldn't be my fault," he said, and realized that he had begun stammering. His panicked him and he flew off the handle for a moment before he could regain composure. "I did everything I could… I followed my orders and did my duty! That shouldn't mean I failed them! I didn't!"

Cortessa quailed, backing up and bowing her head. "I'm sorry, Carth. I didn't mean to upset you. I'll just…" She started for the bed.

Carth was still stuck stammering, damn him. He staggered slightly trying to catch her. "N-No. I know. Don't worry about it. I just… must not be making much sense."

"No, you're not."

Carth bit his lip and felt himself coming to. He stood up straight again. "You probably mean well with your questions. I'm just not accustomed to talking about my past very much. At all, actually. I'm more used to taking action… keeping my mind focused on the business at hand. So let's just do that. If you have more questions, ask them later."

"That's kind of selfish," Cortessa told him, but he closed himself up.

He hated Taris.

He hated the Sith.

And by the gods, did he hate this woman.

------

**Author's Notes: **Awww… does it suck that bad, my duckies?

**SilverSentinal21 **– My name is not Cortessa. It's Natasha. My screen name is my character's name. XD Thanks for noticing, though. Heh. I haven't read your fanfiction yet, though I really, really want to. I haven't gotten Star Wars KOTOR II yet, so I'm waiting before I start reading KOTOR II fanfics. I borrowed it from a friend once and she told me a few things, but I'd rather finish the game before I read yours. But once I get the game, you can count on me reading it.


	3. Sexless MarshToad

**Savior Self**

_Generosity, my children, is the way of gold._

_Taris part two._

**Rated PG13**

**Disclaimer: **Too tired to do a disclaimer.

**Savior Self**

Cortessa kept trying to win him over for the rest of the day, having small conversations by asking him what his favorite color was and the like. She was so cute and coy, trying to wind him around her finger, but he would have none of it.

"Didn't you say we were going to scout out this planet?" Carth asked, intentionally turning his eyes away as his companion craftily shifted her uniform to show off more of her neck. She was ridiculous, she really was. But it was amusing in its way, as it was at the same time horribly wearing.

She blinked and buttoned up her collar again. "Hmm. I guess I did say that, didn't I?" She grinned. "You coming with me?"

"Will you let me?"

She didn't reply. She pushed open the door and stepped out. Carth followed on her heels, hating himself for behaving like a lost Kath Hound cub.

They were greeted by a nasty sight: a Sith soldier raiding two innocent Duros merchants. The Duros were cowering, hugging each other, heads bowed. The two droids on either side of the soldier were glowering, their guns blazing.

The Sith spoke, waving his gun menacingly. "Okay, you alien scum, everybody get up against the wall! This is a raid!"

Carth caught motion out of the corner of his eye. Cortessa had powered up her to vibroblades, her eyes flickering, her legs bent. The stance of an assassin on the hunt. The sight startled Carth.

One of the Duros spoke up, his voice quiet and shaking. "There was a patrol here just yesterday, and they found nothing! Why do you Sith keep bothering us?"

The other Duros gasped. "Ixgil! No!"

The Sith grinned nastily and, with one well-placed shot, sent the Duros crumpling to the floor. "That's how we Sith deal with smart-mouth aliens!" the soldier barked. "Now the rest of you get up against the wall before I lose my temper again!"

The droid tapped him on the shoulder, cocking his gun back to Cortessa and Carth, who stood their awkwardly.

The Sith soldier snarled. "What's this? Humans hiding out with aliens?" He stopped, his eyes growing wide at the sight of Carth's jacket, on which he still had his badge (he himself had entirely forgotten about it). "Wait! They're Republic fugitives! Attack!"

Cortessa rushed forward without Carth, arms outstretched, her blade shining like newly-grown wings. She slashed through the two droids with ease before she brought the blades forward as if to embrace the soldier, and cut him in two. She stood there, blades crossed, her breathing ragged. Blood dripped fresh and strong on the floor and Cortessa's eyes burned with it, her mouth open and twisted into a bloodthirsty, wild smile.

The Duros was shaking. "T-Thank you," he stammered.

Cortessa came to, her eyes growing wide. She blinked once, her smile vanishing, and she sheathed her vibroblades. She bowed low to the Duros. "I'm just glad I could help."

The Duros sighed, looking at his companion's dead body. "Poor Ixgil. He should never have talked back to that Sith. Thankfully you were here to step in and help us, human. This isn't he first time the Sith have come in here to cause trouble for us, but hopefully it will be the last."

"Won't someone come looking for this patrol?" Cortessa asked, giving the upper half of the Sith corpse a nice kick. Carth inconspicuously pulled off his badge and slipped it in his pocket.

"Don't worry about the bodies," the Duros told her. "I will move them so it looks like they were killed elsewhere. That should throw the Sith off the track. With any luck, they won't be bothering us again for a while."

Cortessa nodded, looking like she wasn't entirely there, and headed down the hall to the nearest room. "I wonder what's in here," she said casually.

"You wouldn't!" Carth gasped.

Nonchalantly, as if was a complete accident, she rested her elbow against the activation button and slipped a spike into the wires. There was hiss and a click and the door whooshed open. A woman looked up, her face red from her tears, her lips pallid and shaking as she pressed her fingers to them.

"Who are you?" she asked. "What are you doing here? You can't just come barging into someone's home!"

Cortessa put on a honey-sweet voice. "I'm sorry. I was just investigating the area."

The woman snorted. "That's no excuse. You can't just go around barging into people's apartments because you're curious! But at least you're more polite than that pig, Holdan."

Cortessa looked interested. "Holdan? Who's that?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "Just one of Davik's men who can't keep his hands to himself. But all he got for his trouble was a nasty scar from by vibroblade! Too bad I'm the one still paying the price." She sighed, hanging her head, and sobbed some more.

"What do you mean?" Cortessa prodded gently.

The woman looked stricken. "I… I don't want to talk about it. I'm in enough trouble already. Besides, I don't know if I can trust you."

Carth was amazed at what happened next. Cortessa's voice grew soft and rung in a strange echo, and he felt himself being lulled by that voice, almost as if she could never harm him. He didn't know until later what she had done – and as such, was astounded.

"You can trust me," Cortessa said. "Maybe I can help."

The woman seemed to be pacified. "Well, I suppose you seem like an alright sort," she said dreamily. "When I cut Holdan it made him back off, but it also embarrassed him in front of his friends. Holdan's a spiteful little Hutt-slug. He went and put a bounty on my head for what I did! That's why I'm hiding out here."

Cortessa frowned. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

The woman snorted again. Whatever voodoo had been put on her, it was worn off. "I doubt it," she said. "Holdan is one of Davik's men. When you work for the local crime lord the authorities tend to turn a blind eye. I'm afraid this is between me and Holdan now."

Cortessa thought for a moment. "Maybe I can talk to Holdan for you."

The woman shrugged, lolling her head a little. "You could try, I guess. He usually hangs out at the cantina in the Lower City. It probably won't do any good. Holdan's used to getting his own way. That's one of the fringe benefits of being a goon for Davik. Working for the local crime lord lets you get away with things. Still, I appreciate the offer."

Cortessa bowed. "I'll be going now."

The woman smiled and nodded. "Goodbye, and good luck. I hope you can talk some sense into Holdan. Oh!" she cried as Cortessa walked away.

Cortessa looked back. "Yes?"

"My name is Dia."

Cortessa saluted and continued on her merry way. Carth wandered unhappily behind.

"Who's Davik?" she hissed in his ear. The heat from her breath made him shudder.

"From what she said, it sounds like he's some top-guy crime lord," Carth replied. "Please stop smothering me."

She stepped back and continued down the hall. Despite his weak protests, she picked every locked door and raided every home. Carth would apologize profusely when they finished, but people wouldn't look twice at him. He supposed they were ashamed.

Cortessa wandered down the hall and paused to gaze out the window. "The day is fading," she said. "We'll look the city over more thoroughly tomorrow."

"Are you sure?" Carth asked, unconsciously reaching up to touch the strip of his shirt that remained tied around her head.

"I'm sure," she said, swatting his hand away. "Mother."

He smiled back with equal cheek. He would make a game out of this if that was what she wanted. "I'm just worried. When we first crashed I would have sworn you were going to die. You kept screaming in your sleep…"

"I have nightmares," Cortessa muttered. "Look, it isn't important."

"Maybe you should see a doctor."

She stared at him firmly. "The nightmares aren't because of my wounds. Now leave me alone."

"But you…"

"Carth," she said shortly, and headed back to the apartments. He'd get nothing more from her today.

Perhaps it _was_ a game. She wanted him and he wanted her – and neither were willing to give.

------

Carth woke the next day to silence. For once Cortessa was not screaming her lungs out in her sleep. It was comforting. He lay there for a while, listening to the stillness, when it struck him.

The silence…

He sat up, looking around. Cortessa was gone. He swore, jumping out of bed, and quickly threw his clothes on. He couldn't have her out there making a scene. She would jeopardize the mission! The door whooshed open and Cortessa stepped in, catching him as he hurriedly pulled on his boot.

"Are you alright?" she asked him slowly.

"Where were you?" he responded shortly, finishing his boot.

"I was getting something to eat," she replied with a shrug, and handed him a cup. "Here. You look like you could use something. You're paler than a naked gizka baby."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's a sweet thing to say," he said dryly.

"You're welcome." She sat down on her bed and leaned back against the wall, crossing her legs. She had pulled on a shirt and her pants and that was it. She looked almost vulgar, being dressed in so little. Nowadays even the poor wore some kind of robe. She glanced at him.

"I know I'm fascinating and all, but you can stop staring."

Carth stuck his nose in his cup.

Cortessa sighed, sucking on her finger.

"So, let's try and figure out a way to get to the Undercity," Carth said at last, finishing off his drink. "We'll have to talk to people, but please, keep a low profile."

"Yeah, yeah," she said to herself, flicking some caffa off of her finger.

They started out into the hall and came across the old janitor Carth had sent he first time he had entered the complex. "Hey, there!" the man cried. "Watch where you're walking! I just cleaned those floors!"

Cortessa blinked. "Sorry. I didn't know," she said, flustered.

The janitor smiled. "Well, alright then, no hard feelings. My name's Kadir. I'm the janitor of this building. You must be the new tenant here, right? I never thought they'd rent that abandoned apartment." Cortessa glanced back at Carth and flashed him a hard smile. He grinned back with as much dry sarcasm. Kadir continued talking. "Hmm… you look like an off-worlder. What happened, you get stuck here because of the quarantine? Can't see any other reason someone would want to rent that old apartment." Carth had to agree. The apartment was dirty and stinky and not at all clean, and there was an awful draft, but it was still nice. Large, too.

Cortessa flashed her winning smile. "I want to ask you a few questions," she said. "If you have the time. Do you mind?"

Kadir shrugged. "Don't know how much I can tell you, but seeing as how you're new here I guess I can try and help you out."

Cortessa glanced out the window behind her. "Tell me about Taris."

"Decent enough place to live, I guess," Kadir said evenly, running his palsied hands up and down the handle of his broom. "Except for the lower levels. That's where the swoop gangs hang out. Just stay in the Upper City and you'll be fine." Carth sighed. They _weren't_ going to stay in the Upper City.

"Anything else I might want to know?" Cortessa asked gently.

"You also might want to check out the cantina. I used to go there when I was younger. Good place to get a drink and find out what's going on in the Upper City."

"Hmm. Where is the cantina?"

Kadir gave them directions, motioning with his hands, and Cortessa marked his words down in her datapad. "You can't miss it," the old man finished.

"Thank you," Cortessa said. "I'll be going now."

Kadir frowned dejectedly. Apparently he didn't get talked to often. At least not politely, by a pretty woman. "I should get back to work anyway," the janitor muttered. "I'll probably see you around – I'm here most of the time. This building doesn't clean itself, you know."

Cortessa nodded and started off with Carth again.

"Well, he didn't have much to say, did he?" she said as she stepped into the elevator.

Carth nodded, stepping inside after her.

"Hey, Carth?"

"Yes? What's on your mind?"

"Is this a good time to ask you some more questions?"

Carth smiled, deciding to play at her. "I'm all ears, beautiful," he said.

She looked stricken. She studied him, her face hard. "'Beautiful'? Isn't that a little inappropriate?" She frowned, looking him over.

Carth smiled timidly. "Is there something else you'd prefer I called you?"

She raised an eyebrow. "How about my name?"

Carth blinked. Wow. Angry. "Don't get yourself in a twist over it, gorgeous. I didn't mean anything by it," he said.

She gaped. "There you go again!" she cried, throwing her arms in the air.

Carth was appalled. She was taking this way too far. "Oh, for crying out –" He composed himself, "Fine. If it'll make you feel better, you call me something." She shook her head, but he continued. "Go ahead, come on. I can take it."

She laughed. "What? Don't be ridiculous." The elevator door opened and they stepped out together, into the main walkway.

"What? Are you afraid you'll hurt my feelings? Come on, spit it out! You can do it."

She stared at him, eyebrows raised, but he kept grinning until she rolled her eyes and said, "Well, how about, 'sexist worm'?"

Carth was stunned. Well. He recovered by laughing, waving a hand to dismiss the name. "Is that it? You can do better than that!"

Her face turned red and she blurted, "SEXLESS MARSH-TOAD!"

A nearby pedestrian scrambled for safety.

Carth laughed. "Ouch! That _is_ better! Well, I bet 'beautiful' doesn't sound so bad in comparison, now, does it?"

Cortessa smiled and laughed as well. "You are such a pain, you know that?"

He grinned back. "Guilty as charged. I'll bet you still have those questions in mind, though. Are they really necessary?"

She shrugged, grinning, giving him one last tease before she ended the little game. "Don't be such a child. It's just a few questions."

Carth laughed again. This woman was priceless! "Oh, no, how can I resist a challenge to my manly pride, huh? Fine, you've made your point. Interrogate at will."

She looked him over. "This isn't an interrogation. I never said that."

Wow. One minute they were giggling like children and the next his jokes flew right over her head. "No," he said. "I was just joking, though you do seem to be full of questions. It's rather refreshing, to be honest." It struck him, then. She was worming her way into him. He backed up, distancing himself. He remembered that he wanted to ask her about her past… those holes that had been left empty. Maybe she could tell him. "Let me ask you something first, though." She put her weight on one leg, resting her hands on her hips, listening. He continued on, picking his words carefully. "I've been going through the battle aboard the Endar Spire over and over in my head since we crashed. Some things just don't add up for me. Maybe you could tell me what happened from your perspective."

She bit her lip, considering this. "I wasn't really in a position to know what was going on, really," she said at last.

Carth didn't believe her, but played along. "Neither was I, to tell the truth. I was onboard as an advisor for the most part. The battle began so fast, it's anyone's guess as to what really happened." He became sobered, hanging his head sadly. "We lost the ship and a lot of good people… and for what? On the hope that the Jedi powers would save us somehow? Not that Bastila had much of an opportunity to act." He looked up.

Cortessa tilted her head.

"We didn't choose that battle, anyway," Carth said. "It got forced on us. Hell, I'm just surprised that any of us are around to talk about it!" He paused. "Come to think of it, it's more than a little surprising that you happen to be here, isn't it? Just what is your position with the Republic fleet, anyway?"

She gaped again, her eyes going wide. "Why?" she cried. "Are you accusing me of something?"

Carth waved his hands. "Not at all! I just think it's a little bit odd that someone who got added to the crew roster at the last minute just happens to be one of the survivors."

Cortessa looked like she had been slapped. Carth was amazed to see her eyes become shiny with tears. "You'd rather I wasn't?" she asked in a weak voice.

He shook his head, stunned. He made up something nice to say to calm her down. "Don't be ridiculous! You've more than proved yourself after the crash… we wouldn't have made it this far without you. But still…"

Cortessa spluttered. "Are you implying _I_ had something to do with the crash?"

"No," said Carth, but realized that he had just spouted a flat lie, and corrected himself. "Well… maybe." She made a noise of disbelief, and she looked like she was about ready to leave. He grabbed her arm. "Don't get me wrong, it just seems odd that someone Bastila's party specifically requested to transfer aboard happens to survive."

Cortessa blinked and frowned. "What? Why would Bastila request my transfer?"

Carth shrugged. "The Jedi requested a lot of things when they came on board… hell, they practically took over the ship, as far as I could tell. Considering your connection to Bastila and the Jedi… whether you know it or not… your presence seems a little convenient." She turned white with fury. "Look, I'm probably wrong, and this is probably nothing, I know. I learned a long time ago not to take things at face value, however. And I _hate_ surprises."

Cortessa raised an eyebrow – what a sweet little quirk – and looked at him suspiciously. "What do you mean by surprises?"

Carth decided to wrap this conversation up. "I mean I have to expect the unexpected. Just to be safe."

"You do know we're on the same side, right?"

"Look… it has nothing to do with you, personally. I don't trust anyone, and I have my reasons." He saw her open her mouth and cut her off. "And, no, I'm not going to discuss them. So can we keep our minds on more important things?"

Cortessa squared her shoulders, but he still towered over her. "I consider this important."

Carth raised his voice, to shut her up. "Alright, alright! If you aren't the most damned persistent woman I've ever met!" She grinned wolfishly. "We'll talk about it, but later. Right now I just want to get going."

She shrugged, satisfied for now, and started down the road, swinging her arms loosely at her sides.

------

**Author's Notes: **There you go, duckies! Hope you liked it!

**SilverSentinal21 **- I'll get around to reading your story, then. Carth didn't hit his head... he's just unhappy that Cortessa can get so easily under his skin. XD And my screenname... in my game, the first name I made up was Cortessa Blatt, so that's the name I used. Later I made Relina Paan and Cortana McMazy, and they may turn up sometime, you never know.


	4. Thanks, Doll

**Savior Self**

_Taris part three._

**Rated PG13**

**Disclaimer: **I can do the chicken dance, but I don't own Star Wars.

**Savior Self**

The city of Taris was all a bustle. The first thing Cortessa did was explore the escape pod they had come in, which had crashed right outside the apartments. Carth stood by, watching silently, as she poked around and winced at the sight of blood.

"Is that mine?" she asked weakly.

"Yeah," Carth replied, taking her hand and leading her away. "Look, we have things to do."

"You saved us," Cortessa said, looking back. "We would have crashed in the Undercity if you hadn't –"

"Are you getting sentimental on me?" he asked, though he grinned.

She looked over to him, her eyes shining brightly. "Just… thank you."

Carth flushed and said nothing. He continued down the streets of Taris with her on his heels. "We should visit this shop over here," he said to end the conversation, pointing. A woman waved at them, her brown face twisted into a sweet smile.

Cortessa stepped forward, leaning charmingly against the desk.

The woman at the desk spoke enthusiastically. "Hello there! I haven't seen you in my shop before! Allow me to introduce myself; my name is Kebla Yurt. Welcome to the Equipment Emporium! You looking to buy some supplies? My shop's the largest one in all of Upper Taris! Best selection on the planet! Anything you need, I've got! Well… mostly."

Carth's ears pricked up. He tilted his head to one side. "Mostly? What do you mean by that?"

Kebla rolled her eyes and sighed. "Well, the Sith confiscated all my heavy weapons, and they impounded all my ships and swoop bikes, but I've still got a real nice selection, if you're interested."

Cortessa smiled, working up her charm to get the answers she needed. "I'd like to ask you some questions, if you don't mind," she said warmly.

Kebla smiled. "Anything I can do to help a potential customer out. What do you want to know?"

"I need some general information on Taris."

Kebla gasped sympathetically. "Oh, you're one of those off-worlders, aren't you? Come to Taris for a short business trip and get stuck here because of the quarantine, right? Oh, you can't be too happy, trapped on an unfamiliar world and all. But Taris isn't so bad, as long as you stay in the Upper City. Just try and avoid the Sith. Oh! And stay out of the Lower City. The swoop gangs are totally out of control. Even Davik's men are having trouble down there!"

Cortessa pressed her fingers to her own lips. "Hmm. What do you know about Davik?"

Kebla looked around. "Oh, Davik's a legitimate business man, if you catch my drift." She lowered her voice, looking Cortessa in the eye and pressing her finger to the desk. Carth leaned in to hear better. "Smuggling, slaving, extortion… mm hmm. They say he's a member of the Exchange – you know, the big intergalactic criminal organization."

Carth bent close to whisper in Cortessa's ear. She raised a finger to silence Kebla for a moment. "I've hard of the Exchange," Carth murmured. "Bad organization to cross. If anyone has blockade-breaking ships, however, it's them."

"I see," Cortessa replied, nodding, and turned back to Kebla, who was grinning at them as if she knew something they didn't. Carth stepped back and let their chatter continue.

"I have to pay them a protection fee every month," Kebla said with a shrug. "But it's reasonable, and I get most of my inventory through Davik and his suppliers – I'm just smart enough not to ask where it came from, you understand?"

Cortessa laughed. "Sounds like Davik's nothing but a petty crime lord."

Kebla's face blanched and she spoke in a loud hiss. "Careful where you _say that_! Davik's got spies and agents _everywhere_! Besides, he's as much a part of Taris as the skyscrapers or the swoop gangs!"

Cortessa nodded, listening to the monotonous clank of the Sith's metal boots. "Is Davik working for the Sith?" she asked out of nowhere.

Kebla shook her head, her eyes growing wide. "Davik hates the Sith as much as anybody! The quarantine has put a real dent in his operation too. But he's keeping a low profile as long as the occupation lasts." She chuckled. "Davik stays out of the way, and the Sith don't bother him. The swoop gangs could learn a thing or two from this tidy little arrangement, instead of always going after each other."

Cortessa thought for a moment. "You've mentioned swoop gangs a lot. What can you tell me about them?"

Carth sighed. The most boring part of being prepared was learning about the dangers ahead.

Kebla shook her head. "I don't have anything good to say about those swoop gangs; zooming around on their swoop bikes, terrorizing the Lower City like a bunch of animals! Things weren't so bad when the Hidden Beks were running the show, but ever since the rise of the Black Vulkar gang, the Lower City has been nothing short of war zone!" She sounded appalled. "The Sith haven't even bothered trying to maintain order down there! And I heard a rumor that Davik's own people are having trouble with the Black Vulkars now."

A Sith entered the shop. Kebla went rigid and smiled a fake smile. "Hello, sir!" she said.

"What's with this droid?" the officer asked, poking his gun in her assistance droid's face.

"He works to make sure the supplies are in order, s-sir," Kebla said, turning red.

"Very well," the Sith growled. "But if I see anything suspicious there'll be a problem."

"Of course, sir."

The Sith left. Kebla seemed to deflate, dabbing her face with a cloth.

Cortessa watched the officer leave. "I was wondering how you feel about the Sith?"

Kebla laughed nervously. "It's not smart to talk about the people in power, if you get my meaning. I just wish the Sith would ease up on the quarantine – they're killing my business!" She sighed, shaking her head. "I can't say I like having them here in the Upper City, but it could be worse. And we're still a lot better off than the Lower City, what with those swoop gangs and all."

Cortessa was getting down to more important things. "Do you know anything about the escape pods that crashed here on Taris?" she asked.

Kebla considered this. "I don't really know…"

Cortessa said nothing. She leaned forward, staring Kebla down. Kebla sighed.

"Fine. I heard a couple of pods crashed down in the Undercity. I bet the crash sites have already been stripped clean by the Sith, though – unless the swoop gangs or Davik's men got there first."

Cortessa nodded. "Thank you. I'll be going now."

Kebla nodded, grinning. "Good day to you then! Remember to come on back to my shop if you ever need any supplies."

"I will," Cortessa replied and, grabbing Carth by the arm, led him around the corner.Carth glanced back once to see Kebla sigh and rest her elbows on the desk, murmuring, "How sweet." He felt as if he had been slapped. _She thinks we're_… Mortified, he wrenched his arm from Cortessa's grasp. She glanced back once, raising an eyebrow, but kept on walking without him.

"There's the cantina," Cortessa said, pointing. "Let's go check it out."

Carth grunted a reluctant reply and she stepped inside, ignoring the Sith officer standing there. The cantina was crowded and warm. Carth found a seat and let Cortessa explore for herself. She indulged herself in a chat with a girl by the entrance. Carth didn't listen in. He focused on a nearby patron singing something about women and pirates. But then Cortessa started getting out of his sight.

"Hey!" he called.

"If you care so much, heel, boy!" she barked back, and a girl nearby giggled.

Groaning, Carth reluctantly followed her into a room where a band was performing. A smarmy man grabbed Cortessa's wrist out of nowhere. Carth reached for his blasters, but Cortessa was handling it herself.

"Well, hello there!" said the stranger in an obnoxiously pleasant voice. "I see from your exotic appearance that you are not from Taris originally. Allow me to introduce myself – my name is Jergan."

Cortessa looked like she was going to be ill. She tried to pry his hand loose but he held on. She groaned and lied through her clenched teeth. "Pleased to meet you. My name's Cortessa Blatt."

Jergan still seemed to be clutching her hand for dear life. Carth cleared his throat disapprovingly, and the offending appendage snaked back to Jergan's side. Jergan swallowed and rolled his shoulders to prep himself. "What do you think of our local music? The band is quite good, wouldn't you agree? They're on the verge of intergalactic stardom, you know."

Cortessa seemed to be struggling to refrain from telling the truth. "It's different, but I like it," she managed to spit.

Jergan was pleased. "Obviously you have an ear for music. Mark my words, they'll be famous soon enough. They were about to go on tour before this Sith quarantine stranded them here. Would you like to meet the band after the show? Maybe have a brief brush with fame before they become intergalactic superstars? I can arrange it you know!"

Cortessa pursed her lips and some sarcasm seeped through. "I'll pass." Carth snorted behind his hand. Jergan shot him a glare and tried to win Cortessa back.

"Are you certain? This is a once in a lifetime opportunity – meet the legends before they were famous! All it will cost you is a small handful of credits. I have a standing arrangement with on of the Rodian bodyguards backstage. For the small sum of 20 credits he'll let me set up a meeting with you and the band."

Cortessa's sweet disposition dropped. She wrinkled her nose. "Sounds like you're running a scam to me."

Jergan paled. "You sting me with your words! I merely thought I could offer you the rare opportunity to meet a celebrity before they were famous. But I see you're not interested."

"No, I'm not."

Jergan's jowls quivered. "That's too bad. They really are charming fellows. Very well, then – I hope you enjoy the music. If you change your mind come speak with me again."

"I won't," Cortessa replied, and turned on her heel to leave. Carth 'accidentally' stamped on Jergan's foot. The man yelped and glowered after them.

Cortessa paused. "See that guy?" she hissed in Carth's ear, pointing. A wolf-faced but sad-looking man stood in the shadows, head bowed.

"What about him?" Carth asked.

"I think he's got something he can tell me."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure, doll."

"_What the hell_?"

"Never mind." She rolled her eyes and stepped up to the man, grinning her sweet, winning smile again and brushing up against him. He smiled at her weakly.

"Hi there. I haven't seen you around before," he said. "Of course… they don't give us Sith officers from the military base much time off…"

Cortessa's grin got wider. Carth was shocked. She had been right. "Oh, you're from the military base?" Cortessa asked, brushing her hair from her eyes. "You don't look like one of the Sith."

"I'm off duty right now, so I'm out of uniform," he said, smiling a little. "My name is Yun Genda – junior officer first class with the Sith occupation fleet." Carth gawked. How could a man brag about being with the Sith?

Cortessa shook his hand, or rather held it and moved it once. "Nice to meet you, Yun. I'm Cortessa Blatt."

Carth noticed that Yun was looking her up and down. What a slime. He felt his face grow hot and he looked away, beating a tattoo on his blaster angrily.

"I'm actually a little surprised you're talking to me at all… most of the people here on Taris can't stand us Sith. It can make this a pretty lonely job."

He was getting too close. Carth was prepared to intervene but Cortessa didn't look uneasy. She put on that weird voice… the one that was so lulling… so deep and comforting… Carth lost himself in it again. "You're just doing your job, right? I don't hold that against you."

Yun was smiling dreamily. "That's true." His eyes were fixed on what made Cortessa so attractive, and Carth had to focus on the performing Bith on the stage to avoid shouting out. Yun was still talking pitifully and Cortessa was lapping it up.

In the end, Yun offered to bring Cortessa to a party. His hand had found her hip sometime during the conversation, and for once Carth could see her losing patience with him.

"Sounds good," she said, recoiling. "I'll be there."

Yun grinned. "Don't be late. We're starting right after our shifts end. Most of us won't even be going back to the base to lock up our uniforms. I look forward to seeing you there." He dared kiss her, where her jaw met her ear, and he could see her eyes ice over. Her back went rigid and she said nothing as he left.

Carth grabbed her arm. "What was that all about?" he blurted.

She stared back and shrugged away her arm. She turned on her heel and continued on, until she reached the dueling room of the cantina. She eagerly participated, and beat the first three contestants before she became bored. Carth was amazed. Maybe she wasn't so bad after all. When he asked where these skills had come from, she replied, "They're a hell of a lot easier than the Sith on the Endar Spire."

They socialized a bit more and continued on, back to the open skies of the Taris walkways.

"Where to now?" Carth asked.

She grinned at him, undoing her shirt part-way. "We're going to a party."

------

As they made their way to the apartments, they came upon a grim sight. An elderly man was being harassed by another man and an alien. Both were heavily armed, demanding a payment for Davik.

"But I don't have that much," the old man cried. "How can I pay you credits I don't have?"

The man – a bounty hunter – rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. "That's too bad. Davik's going to want to make an example of you! You're coming with us."

The man and the alien grabbed the elder's arms. The old man screamed. "NO! HELP! SOMEBODY HELP! THEY'RE GOING TO KILL ME!"

Nobody stopped.

Carth was aghast. He whispered in Cortessa's ear. "I know we have to be careful about drawing attention to ourselves, but are we just going to let them drag this guy off?"

Cortessa opened her mouth, but the bounty hunter beat her to it.

"Hold on a second. Looks like we got ourselves a witness here!"

The alien bounty hunter rolled his shoulders, rather like the human one had. "Davik doesn't like witnesses," he growled.

Cortessa grinned. "Leave this man alone or you'll have to deal with me!"

The bounty hunters laughed. "Guess we have to teach you to mind your own business, space wench!"

Cortessa struck with prejudice and killed the first within seconds. The second grabbed Carth by the arm and spun him against his chest, pressing a blaster to his head.

"Nobody moves or the ham gets it," the bounty hunter growled.

"Hold still, Carth," Cortessa said, taking aim with her vibroblades.

Carth panicked. "No! No! Wait! Wait! W-What are doing? Stop!"

"I said hold still."

"Wait a second –"

Cortessa charged forward and, with an artful twirl, sliced off the bounty hunter's arms and head. Carth sank to the ground, staring blankly at the severed arm, which still clutched the blaster tightly.

"My gods," Carth gasped.

The old man stood there shaking. "Thank you – I owe you my life! Those bounty hunters were going to take me away and kill me! My wife warned me not to take a loan from Davik. Now I can't pay him back! It's not _good_ to owe a crime lord money! He'll just keep sending more bounty hunters after me until I'm dead!" He burst into tears. Carth got to his feet, still dizzied, but forced himself to focus on the conversation.

Cortessa considered him. "Maybe I can help you."

The old man shook his head. "You already helped me by saving me from those bounty hunters," he said. "So unless you have a spare 100 credits to give me so I can pay off Davik, there's nothing else you can do."

Cortessa jammed her hand in her supply pack and unearthed a handful of credits. "Here's 100 credits," she said, putting them in his hands. "Take them."

The old man gaped. "You're giving me 100 credits? Just like that? I… I don't know what to say! Thank you! Thank you!" He hugged her and she coughed, flushing.

Carth was amazed, and, with the combined shock of the earlier attack, was completely boggled. "You're giving him a hundred credits?" he said. "Generous."

She beamed at the praise.

The old man ran off, blubbering happily about being able to pay off Davik. Cortessa dug around in the clothing of the corpses of the bounty hunters, unearthing 50 credits from each. Carth stared.

"You knew, didn't you?" he said, shocked.

She grinned. "Bounty hunters don't walk around bare-bones, doll," she replied, and stuffed the credits in her pocket. Maybe she wasn't such a saint after all.

They reached the Sith party as it reached its peak. Yun was completely drunk, immediately trying to drive Cortessa onto the bed. She teased him, dodging out of his arms and requesting another drink from him. One-by-one, the rest of the Sith slumped over their drinks, unconscious and dead drunk. Yun tried to remain standing, before he sank to the floor in a dead faint.

"Hmm," said Cortessa, kicking him to make sure he was out. He didn't even grunt.

Carth sighed and started as she knelt down and began taking Yun's clothes apart.

"What are you doing?" he yelped.

"Hey," she said, looking over to him. "Calm down. I'm just checking for credits." She blinked, unearthing his Sith uniform. "This might come in handy," she said after a moment, tossing it to Carth. "Save it."

"I don't see how we'll need this," Carth replied, but kept the uniform anyway. To his utter astonishment, she danced up and pecked him on the nose.

"Thanks, doll," she said, and twirled out of the room, leaving him there to steam.

------

**Author's Notes: **Eh? Eh? What do you think? XD

**SilverSentinal21 **- I know, right? You should tell people to come and visit. XD I never really had a problem with Carth's personality before. It was so easy I was worried that I was doing it wrong. I'm glad you told me. c",)


	5. Twi'lek Street Urchin

**Savior Self **

_Taris part four. _

**Rated PG13 **

**Disclaimer: **is your mother

****

**Savior Self **

****

****

They followed the apartment complex ring for a while, stealing from abandoned and occupied hotel rooms, until they came across a man who yelped and screamed, backing away.

"Please… please don't hurt me! You don't have to kill me – I'll have Davik's money if he… if he just gives me a little more time! Please, I don't want to die! Here – I've got 50 credits on me. That's all I've got. It's yours –just don't tell Davik where I'm hiding, okay? I'm begging you."

Cortessa smiled gently. "Don't worry – I'm not going to hurt you." Carth nodded, giving the man an encouraging smile.

The man looked stunned. "You mean you're not here to kill me? But… I thought you were one of Davik's bounty hunters. If you're not here to kill me… what do you want?"

"I'm just looking around," Cortessa told him.

The man looked as if he had been scared to death. He spoke in a relieved, shaking voice. "Just looking around? Oh… okay. Go ahead, look around. Just don't tell Davik I'm here, okay?"

"Sure," Cortessa said, and rummaged around in a footlocker nearby. Nothing of interest. She returned to the man in the middle of the room.

He jumped at her touch. "What… what do you want now? You're not going to tell Davik's bounty hunters where I'm hiding, are you?"

Carth was amazed when Cortessa offered to help him with his problem with Davik.

The man shook his head sadly. "I don't think anyone can help me. I owe Davik money, and I was late with the payment. So he went to Zax in the bounty office and put a price on my head! I've been hiding here ever since, but sooner or later, someone will find me. Unless I somehow come up with another 200 credits, I'm a dead man."

Cortessa patted his shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry – I won't tell anyone you're hiding here."

His eyes shone with tears. "Thank you – you've saved my life. At least until one of Davik's bounty hunters finds me."

Cortessa left and slipped back into the Upper City walkway. They walked in silence, but were stopped by a small group of drunks.

"What is this planet coming to, huh? Slummies just walking around the Upper City!" roared one.

"Shouldn't you go back to the Lower City were you belong, slummie?" growled a second.

Carth rolled his eyes. "Well this is rich."

"Yeah!" said another. "Like he said! These streets are for Upper City citizens! You better get out of our way if you know what's good for you!"

Cortessa stuck her thumbs in her pockets and put on a loud, friendly voice. "Hey, guys, we can all be friends here! Let me buy you a drink, eh?"

This pleased the drunks. They looked at each other with glee and clapped.

"A drink? Hey – for a slummie you ain't so bad! Come on, boys – this slummie's buying the next round!"

One of them seemed to be more sober than the rest. "No way!" he mumbled. "Forget it! No more drinks! We're late enough as it is."

The others shrugged. "Yeah… I guess you're right." One turned to Cortessa. "Maybe next time, slummie. Come on fellas, let's go."

They wandered off. Cortessa rolled her eyes and spat on the ground, as if speaking to them had sullied her tongue, before she continued on. Carth followed behind, ignoring the mocking sway in her hips. He turned his eyes to the horizon, where the sun was almost gone. They would need to return to their apartment soon.

They poked their head into a droid shop, and there was a Twi'lek owner, but there was nothing they needed there so they moved on.

Just as night had begun to set, they approached an elevator, where a Sith guard was standing.

"Excuse me," Cortessa said sweetly, approaching.

He didn't look twice at her before he began speaking, emphasizing every other word. "_This_ elevator is _off limits_. _Only Sith patrols_ and those with _proper authorization papers_ are allowed into the _Lower_ _City_. It's _obvious_ from the way you're _dressed_ that you're _not_ one of the _Sith patrols_, so _unless_ you have the _authorization papers_ you must _move along_!"

Cortessa stepped away and continued on, back to their apartments. "This place is crap," she told Carth that night as she slipped into bed.

Carth smiled. "What gave you that idea?"

She sat up and looked at him, eyebrows raised.

Carth sighed, rolling his eyes. "It was a joke."

------

They woke up early the next morning to get a start on their activities. Carth pulled on his orange jacket and his pants and waited for Cortessa to step out from the bathroom, but when she appeared she was dressed in her regular clothing.

"What about the uniform?" he asked unhappily.

"I'm not going to wear it," she said, blinking. "It's too big for me."

Carth groaned. "So you're going to force me into it?"

"Damn right, flyboy."

"Well, at least you aren't calling me 'doll,'" Carth muttered, grabbing the uniform. He pulled it on and she wrapped him on his new metal chest once he was finished.

"Let's get a move on," she said, dancing out the door and out of sight, and he cringed when he heard her call back, "doll!"

------

"I want to know more about you," Carth said as they walked back to the elevator that led to the Lower City.

Cortessa shrugged. "There's not much to know," she replied, glancing back. "Slugger city kid grew up n' joined the army. Wasn't no good at fighting – had great reflexes with melee weapons, though. Put me on scout detail. I smuggled goods from planet to planet… _Republic goods_, so don't look at me like that." (Carth had cocked an eyebrow in disbelief.) "Was working some trade goods to Manaan when I was pulled out at a station. Got transferred onto the Endar Spire and now here we are."

"You're not telling me much," Carth said. "You're being impersonal. I know that tactic, so don't try to fool me."

"I love candy and kissing in the rain."

Carth coughed, flushing a little. "Alright, then," he said, his voice a little bit high-pitched, and he continued on.

An old man had set up a stand on a major corner. Two men stood nearby, groaning and ordering him to stop, but the man kept screaming. Cortessa stepped up. "What's going on here?" she asked.

The man smiled. "Greetings, my Sith friends. Rest assured, I have all the proper permits to be here spreading my message."

A younger man cut in. "You Sith should shut this guy up! I think he's violently dangerous! Just listen to him!"

The old man continued. "Feel free to stay and listen if you wish. You'll find my message most enlightening."

Though Cortessa asked questions, the old man said nothing more. Sighing, she continued to the elevator. Carth walked on her heels, watching her braid swing as she looked from left to right, checking for possible danger.

He had summed her up. She was a playful, irrational, headstrong, and sarcastic woman. Though she didn't want to admit it, she was also very frightened of others and, apparently from what's she'd told him, she was a romantic tom-boy.

He actually decided he liked her then.

They came to the elevator. The Sith guard talked to them in a different air – a talkative one, instead of brisk. "Another patrol heading down to the Lower City, eh? Good luck… I've heard it's pretty rough down there. There's a big swoop gang war going on, you know. You'd better watch yourself; those gangs will take a shot at anyone – even us! It's too bad we don't have the manpower to just sweep those slums clean."

Carth forced a chuckle, urging Cortessa ahead.

"Hey, wait," said the guard, cocking his gun at Cortessa. "Who's that?"

Carth struggled. Cortessa batted her eyelashes, tilting her chest forward. "Sure you want t' know, darling?" she asked him in a swingy, soft, flirty accent.

The Sith guard shifted uneasily. "No, I suppose not," he said apprehensively, and looked away. Carth could hear the faint rattling of the man's armor as he shook. The Sith guard shook his head and tapped his gun nervously.

Carth pushed Cortessa inside the elevator and shot her a glare after her had slipped off his helmet. "What was that about?" he hissed.

She shrugged, grinning. "What can I say, doll?" she replied. She looked him up and down. "You can take that uniform off."

He spluttered. "_What_?"

She laughed, tilting her head back as she giggled. "You're an idiot! My gods! I wasn't implying anything, you sick, rutting Bantha! Look, the Lower City might accept us better if we're not burning with the Sith logo, alright?"

Carth thought about it, shaking off the sting of being called a rutting Bantha. "You're right," he said, and stripped off the uniform into his normal clothes. He folded it up and put it in their supply sack for later.

When they stepped out they were greeted by a small gang battle. Cortessa cut through them all, driving her vibroblades right inside their skulls and pulling it back out with a sickening lurch. Carth felt himself convulse as she actually touched the blood on her weapon.

"We need to keep moving," she said, and led him down to a cantina in the Lower City. A Rodian bouncer didn't look twice at them as he mischievously played with his head stalks.

They stepped inside in time to watch a small group of aliens pop up and start harassing a short man in foreign robes. Cortessa strode right between them to talk with a citizen, but Carth watched with interest. Beneath those strange robes Carth could see the dark glint of mesh overlay. This man had more than what first met the eye.

As promised, the man blew the aliens to bit after warning them thrice. Cortessa wasted no time in picking their corpses. Carth continued on to find a Twi'lek girl having a heated argument with a Rodian. This wasn't an adult Twi'lek, either. He estimated an age between thirteen and sixteen.

"… Just a sec, boys. Zaalbar, a little help here? I need you to rip the legs off some insects."

Carth's ears perked up as he heard a guttural, growling reply. A Wookiee here on Taris? They were just getting all kinds of sorts, weren't they?

" Mission – I'm busy. They just brought my food!"

"Quit complaining… you can finish eating later. Besides, you need the exercise, so get over here!"

The Rodian blanched and waved his arms. "We no want trouble with Wookiee. Our problem with you, little girl!"

The Twi'lek tossed her head, grinning. Carth was reminded strongly of Cortessa's cheeky attitude. "You got a problem with me, then you got a problem with Big Z. So unless you want to take on my furry friend, I suggest you greenies hop on out of here."

The Rodian was seething. "Little girl lucky she has big friend," he growled, and stalked off.

Cortessa came up behind Carth and rested her hands on his shoulders. He started but calmed down when he heard her familiar voice in his ear.

"Let's talk to her, doll."

He groaned. "Stop calling me 'doll.' And do we have to talk to everyone we meet?"

"I can call you 'doll' as much as I damn well please, doll. And if we want to find Bastila, yes, we do have to talk to everyone."

"Oh!" Carth gasped. He had forgotten about Bastila! Of course! He stepped aside, letting Cortessa speak.

"Hello there," she said, looking up at the big Wookiee. He stared back, his face twisted up with displeasure.

"Why are you bothering me?" he asked.

"Uh," said Cortessa.

The teenage Twi'lek laughed. "Hey, relax, Big Z! No need to be rude!" She looked at Cortessa and sat on a counter, swinging her legs. "Sorry about that, but Wookiees ain't much for conversation, you know?" She paused, looking her over, running her gloved hand over her headtail once in consideration. "Say, I don't recognize you and I know pretty much everyone in the Lower City. You must be new down here. I guess that makes me and Big Z your official welcoming committee!"

Cortessa smiled, shaking the Twi'lek's hand. "I see we speak the same language," she said. "That's unusual."

The girl shrugged, lolling her head. "It's not _that_ strange. Most aliens can speak Basic, they just _prefer_ to use their own language. But I grew up here on Taris so I just sort of got used to speaking the native tongue."

Carth liked this girl already. While he usually hung back in conversations, he decided to jump in on this one. "You showed a lot of guts dealing with those Vulkars, kid. You got a name?"

The girl grinned. "My name's Mission Vao and this big Wookiee is my best friend, Zaalbar. I'd offer to give you a tour, but the streets down here aren't safe. But if there's anything else you need…" Cortessa didn't catch it, but Carth noticed the smarmy tone in her voice. He was shocked.

Cortessa rested her hands on her hips, tossing her head to get her bangs out of her eyes. "I want to ask you some questions."

Mission looked back at her. "Well, you came to the right person!" she said proudly. "If you want info on Lower Taris I'm the one to talk to! Davik, the Lower City gangs… I even got the scoop on that bounty hunter Calo Nord!"

"'_The scoop_?'"

Mission stuck out her tongue.

Cortessa laughed. "Fine, then. Tell me about Calo Nord."

Mission took a deep breath, prepping herself. "Calo Nord's one of the most famous bounty hunters in the galaxy," she began. Zaalbar sighed. "He's killed more people than the Iridian Plague! I've seen him kill people just for trying to talk to him!" Cortessa whistled, long and low. Mission continued. "He hangs around Zax's bounty office, but I don't think he's looking for work there. All the postings there are small time – way beneath a bounty hunter of his caliber. I figure Calo's been hired by Davik to do a special job for the Exchange. I'd wager a thousand credits that as soon as the quarantine ends, he'll be getting off this rock." She sighed, and her headtails drooped. "Wish _I_ could get off this rock. I hate being stuffed down here with the riff-raff and the swoop gangs."

Cortessa rested a hand on her shoulder. "Tell me about the Lower City gangs."

Mission nodded and lolled her head. "There are only two gangs worth worrying about here in the Lower City: the Black Vulkars, and the Hidden Beks. Sometimes Zaalbar and I hang out at the Bek base." She took a deep breath. "The Beks are head by Gadon Thek – he's a good guy. Lost his sight in a swoop bike accident a few years ago, but even blind he's a great leader. Not like that traitor Brejik!" She spoke so loudly a few heads turned to decipher what the noise was about. Her voice grew quiet again. "Before he took over the Vulkars he was a Hidden Bek. Gadon considered that ungrateful space slug his adopted son!"

"Why did Brejik leave the Hidden Beks?"

"When Gadon went blind everyone figured he'd step down and appoint Brejik in his place. But Gadon figured Brejik wasn't ready yet. He wanted him to wait a few years." Cortessa nodded, letting Mission continue. Mission cracked her neck and swiped a half-empty bottle off of the counter to drink some of it before she spoke again. "But Brejik was too impatient. He left to join the Vulkars, and ever since he's been waging a war to wipe Gadon and his Beks from the face of Taris! This gang was in the Lower City is _totally _the Vulkar's fault! They're the ones killing everything that moves out in the street! It's like they've gone insane!"

"Tell me about Davik, now, okay? Then I'll let you go."

"Deal." They palmed a credit between them. Mission stuffed it in her breast pocket and thought for a moment. "Davik's part of the intergalactic crime syndicate, but I guess everyone knows that. But I hear he's got a new ship for his smuggling operations – the Ebon Hawk." She shrugged, lolling her head, and this appeared to be a habit of hers. "I don't know much about space travel, but I hear that ship's fast enough to break the Sith blockade. Of course, this all just second hand rumor."

Carth was fascinated. Perhaps this was a way off this planet for good. He tested his ground. "Where would he keep it? Do you know?"

Mission grinned at him, thrusting the empty bottle in his direction before she waved it haplessly. "What's it to you?"

Carth shrugged. Mission chuckled, pressing the bottle to her lips, though there was nothing left in it.

"If Davik does have a ship, he's got it locked up in his estate. _Nobody_ gets in there, except the people working for Davik and the Exchange." Zaalbar, who was actually rather quiet throughout this whole thing, nodded, growling quietly.

Cortessa glanced up at him. "So… How do a Wookiee and a Twi'lek teenager end up as best friends?" she asked thoughtfully. Zaalbar stared back, her eyes dark and thoughtful.

Mission giggled, patting her friend's arm and lolling her head again. Carth thought she was a little adorable… rather like a playful child. "We just kind of fell in together. It ain't easy on your own here in the Lower City – everyone's always looking to push you around. Right, Big Z?"

The Wookiee nodded again.

"So we noticed," Carth said, motioning to the dead aliens on the floor, still charred from the charge Calo Nord had set. "But still, you seem like an odd pair."

Mission tossed the bottle over her shoulder, and it landed perfectly in the dispenser in the floor. "When I met up with Zaalbar, it seemed like a good match. I knew we could look out for each other. With my street smarts and his muscle, we make a great team."

Cortessa nodded. "Anything else you'd like to tell me?"

"Nadda," Mission replied.

Cortessa smiled. "Alright then. I'll be going now."

Mission blinked. "You're going?" she asked, sounding surprised, but she quickly recovered, putting on a bored tone. "Yeah, this dive is pretty boring. No action around here. Come on, Big Z, let's go."

Zaalbar cried out in protest. "But I haven't finished eating!"

Mission rolled her eyes. "Can't you think about something besides your stomach for five minutes? Come on – we'll go see if there's anything good to eat at the Bek base." As she steered her furry friend out the door, Carth was amused to see him swipe his sandwich off the table and bring it with him.

He started as Cortessa pressed a hand to his cheek. She really needed to stop whispering in his ear.

"Looks like we got ourselves a ship," she told him.

"Looks like it, indeed," he muttered, and unwound himself from her grip.

------

**Author's Notes: **I got nothing to say, really.

**SilverSentinal21 **- Thank you. I decided to add that little quirk in, and it seems to work. After all, it makes some sense.

**Vila Sky **- Thanks so much, love. I worked hard.


	6. Holdan

**Savior Self**

_Holdan sticks it to the man._

_Taris part five._

**Rated PG13**

**Disclaimer: **My name is Nat

I am a little fat

I do not own Star Wars

And that, dammit,

Is that.

**Savior Self**

Cortessa was about to exit when she spotted a shifty-looking man with a hungry expression on his face as he watched the Twi'lek dancers. Carth saw her perk up and consider him before she approached him.

"Who are you?" she asked warmly, studying him. A plate on his chest said 'Holdan.' Carth felt his blood run cold.

Holdan shook his head, his eyes glazing over, then turning normal. He looked at Cortessa, taking her in. "Huh? What? Oh… sorry. I didn't see you there. My attention was kind of focused on the Twi'lek dancers…" He went off with some drawn out, perverted statements, and Carth could see Cortessa going rigid, her hands firmly gripping the hilts of her vibroblades. Holdan shook his head again. "Don't worry, honey – alien girls aren't really my thing. I'm much more interested in an attractive female of my own species." His eyes were fixed on her breasts.

Cortessa drew a vibroblade once, but quickly sheathed it and instead folded her arms protectively, her eyes flickering with hatred. "Keep your hormones in check, buddy. I just want to ask some questions." Her leg twitched. She wanted to kick him.

Carth hated this guy already, and wanted more than anything for Cortessa to actually cause him some harm.

Holdan narrowed his eyes. "I don't like the tone of your voice. I work for Davik Kang – I'm used to people treating me with respect!"

Cortessa blinked, sobered. "You work for Davik?"

Holdan grinned. "I'm one of his top couriers. Davik's always sending me off planet to deliver and bring back packages. He knows he can trust me to follow my orders to the letter. Plus, I used to be an intergalactic customs agent so I now all the tricks they use to catch smugglers. That gives me the edge I need on my courier runs."

Cortessa raised an eyebrow. "You're pretty open about what you do."

Holdan rolled his shoulders. "It's not like it's some big secret. It's kind of hard for Davik to keep a low profile when he belongs to a big intergalactic syndicate like the Exchange."

Cortessa was thoughtful. "Do you think Davik could get me off Taris?"

Holdan shrugged again. "Davik's' ship is the fastest one in the entire quadrant, but even the Ebon Hawk can't get off Taris until the quarantine is lifted. The Sith fleet has the planet surrounded. Any ship leaving orbit without the proper access codes will be disintegrated by the Sith auto-piloting laser cannons – and those codes are locked safely away in the military base." Holdan sighed. "Davik's pretty upset about it. His smuggling operation isn't making any money, but even with his underworld connections he can't get his hands on those codes."

Cortessa sighed and Carth marked this information down in his datapad. He looked up when Cortessa changed the subject. "You're the guy who put the bounty on Dia's head, right?"

Holdan grunted, frowning. "You're here about that? I guess Zax must have mentioned me to you at the bounty office. Fair enough – I don't care who takes her out, just so long as the job gets done. I can't let her get away with what she did – that wench tried to cut me with her vibroblade!"

Cortessa rolled her eyes. "Now why would she do that?" she said sarcastically.

Holdan didn't catch the irony. "Because she's crazy! She started screaming that I was making advances, and the next thing I know she's coming at me with a knife!"

Carth snorted, hardly able to believe a guy could be so much sex and so little brains. "Yeah, right. Sounds to me like she was defending herself." He shook his head.

Holdan sighed. "I admit I was drunk. Maybe I got a little fresh. But it was no big deal. She didn't have to cut me!"

Cortessa grinned her awful, wolfish grin. "Sounds like you got what you deserved, other than being neutered."

Holdan spluttered. "Hey – you weren't there! SHE TOTALLY OVER-REACTED!"

Cortessa rolled her eyes and shook her head. She got right in his face, standing tall. "I want the bounty on Dia's head removed."

Holdan frowned. "What? I can't do that! Think how it would look! I work for Davik; I've got a certain reputation to uphold! I can't let her get away with this. There has to be payback!" Holdan paused. "Although… I do feel a little guilty about all this. Dia's a good looking gal… it'd be a shame to kill her. Tell you what – I'll take 200 credits in exchange for the bounty."

Cortessa snarled. Carth watched in mortified amazement as she grabbed him by the scuff of the neck and brought his face down to hers, her expression twisted with such anger sweat began to run down Holdan's temple.

"Take that bounty off Dia's head or you're a dead man," she hissed, and for the first time Holdan saw the blades on either side of her legs.

He blanched, but tried to worm his way out of it. "You're threatening me? I work for Davik Kang! If you kill me you'll be signing your own death warrant. Do us both a favor and don't waste my time with stupid threats!"

She drew her vibroblade and pressed the cold metal against his skin. He whimpered.

"Fine! Fine!" he gasped. "I'll take the bounty off! Keep your damn credits!"

She released him and he staggered back, rubbing his neck and glowering. He stomped off, and she followed right on his heels to make sure he did his part. After he had told Zax to take the bounty off, Cortessa turned and headed out into the streets of the Lower City.

"That was a pretty good thing you did back there," Carth told her gently.

She glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "I did what I had to do," she replied. "Let's go back up to the Upper City and tell Dia. The day's almost over and I want to get some rest."

Carth followed in silence, turning his eyes to the sky, which was blocked out by the enormous buildings looming overhead. Sighing, he continued on his way.

They reached the Upper City without trouble, and went back to Dia's apartment. She looked at them with shining eyes.

"You're back. Did you… did you manage to get Holdan to withdraw the price on my head?" she asked, her voice shaking with suppressed hope.

Cortessa smiled. "I spoke with Holdan. I convinced him to remove the bounty on your head."

Dia looked stricken. "He… he called the bounty off? That's wonderful! Oh, thank you! I only wish there was something I could give you as a reward… Wait a minute! I know! I don't have many credits, but there is something I can give you. It's a family heirloom. It's not much, but it's something." She dug in her pockets for a moment.

Cortessa took her hands, shaking her head. "Keep your reward," she said. "Helping you was thanks enough." Carth was awed. He had never thought her to be so kind, but he did feel for Dia's case – she had done nothing wrong, and here she was offering every penny she owned as thanks. He smiled to himself.

Dia smiled back weakly. "I can never truly repay you for helping me, but you'll always have my thanks for what you did," she said. She hugged Cortessa tightly before she timidly stepped out, ready to face the world again.

"That was excellent of you, Cortessa," Carth told her.

"You start getting all schmaltzy about it and I'll slit you throat to groin, got it?" Cortessa snapped, not even bothering to look at him as she headed back to their room.

Carth recoiled. "Whatever you say, beautiful," he breathed.

He yelped and jumped back as her vibroblade hit the floor at his feet with a clatter.

------

**Author's Notes: **Short chapter. Hope you like it all the same, though.

**SilverSentinal21 **- I'm glad you like her. I took my time building her. I'm sorry this chapter is so short. I'll make up for it soon, though.

**Amme Moto **- That's why I don't play pazaak.

**Vila Skye **- Hope you enjoyed!


	7. FiveCredit Blows

**Savior Self**

_And someone left the cake out in the rain… I don't know if I can take it, because it took so long to bake it, and I'll never have that recipe again… Ooooh nooooo..._

_Taris part six._

**Rated PG13**

**Disclaimer: **Heehee. Would you read it if I actually made a disclaimer?

**Savior Self**

The next morning Carth dressed in the Sith suit to get to the Lower City. Cortessa led the way in silence, her hands clasped be hind her back, her head bowed in a display of submission. Carth held both her arms in his hands and walked behind her, so that she resembled something of a slave. Indeed, her clothing was tucked away in their supply sack, and she walked in her underwear, her legs and stomach suggestively bared for the world to see.

A few people stopped to stare, but for the most part they were ignored. Carth himself was having trouble walking behind Cortessa was she was dressed so scantly. It was horribly distracting, especially while she swayed like she did. He had to fix his eyes on the walkway.

They reached the Lower City without a problem, and Cortessa and Carth switched back to their day clothes, not looking at each other as they faced opposite ends of the street.

"We're visiting the Undercity tonight, doll," Cortessa said in a conversational way.

He had gotten used to the nickname and could dismiss it easily. "That's good to hear," he replied. "I was getting worried that we would turn up too late."

Cortessa finished up. He glanced back to see her zip up her vest, and her breasts were hidden beneath its thick padding.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Hurry up, will you? We don't have all day."

Carth shrugged on his jacket. "Let's go."

They walked together in silence before they came upon a small group of Vulkars.

"I got it!" Cortessa said, and he watched as her eyes began to glow with anger. She twirled her vibroblades and charged forward, screaming. She sliced through two Vulkars easily, and Carth stayed behind, taking a few awkward shots with his blasters. He was amazed at what a ferocious fighter she was.

A Vulkar came up behind Carth and grabbed him by the neck. He swore, squirming in his grasp. His blasters were useless. "CORTESSA!"

She kicked a Vulkar on the ground and looked back. "What?"

"Help."

She blinked, her eyes flickering. She charged forward and Carth gasped as he felt the sharp tip of vibroblade being pushed against his skin. "Whoa, whoa! Stop!" he cried.

Cortessa slowed down and finally stopped, frowning. "What's your problem?"

"Stealth shield," Carth croaked. The grip was tightening on his neck. "Right? Can't see him?"

"Nope."

"Well, he's gonna kill me."

After a moment she turned her stealth on. The grip on Carth's neck loosened. He could hear the Vulkar grumble with confusion. Something hot splashed against Carth's neck and the Vulkar fell to the ground with a thud.

"He's dead," Cortessa said good-naturedly.

Carth rubbed his neck, staring at the shimmering corpse on the ground. "Thanks," he wheezed.

Her pants and vest were stained red with blood, and she was grinning.

"How're you?" Carth squeaked.

Her grin widened. "Let's keep on truckin'!" She turned on her heel and led the way, swinging her vibroblades in a good-natured manner. Up ahead a man was badgering two Vulkars for credits. Carth and Cortessa ducked into the shadows to listen.

"You guys are behind in your payments. What do you… uh… you think that just 'cause you're in some gang you don't have to give Davik his cut?"

The Vulkars guffawed stupidly, elbowing each other and nodding their heads. "I don't see Davik doing anything for his share," a Vulkar said. "We do all the work. Davik claims he's part of the Exchange, so let's see him prove it."

The other laughed. "Yeah, let's see the big crime lord come and get his money from the Black Vulkars!" They giggled hysterically, slapping each other on the back.

The man smiled wryly. "Ah, so you want to play this the hard way?" He laughed. "Okay." Cortessa blinked as the man whistled once, short and sharp.

A muscle-bound man with grey hair and a cold face sauntered in, sliding one hand over the barrel of an enormous repeater. The expression on his face was firm and hard, but his eyes betrayed his boredom and revulsion.

The Vulkars instantly blenched. "Oh, hey… Canderous! We didn't know you was working for Davik now!"

"Yeah, we were just goofin' around. We don't want no trouble with a Mandalorian. Here's Davik's cut."

The man – the agent for Davik – grinned, bouncing the sack full of credits in his hand. "I knew you boys would see reason. Now get out of here."

The Vulkars ran.

The stone-faced man, a Mandalorian, Canderous, apparently, sighed in a bored way. He spoke in a flat voice, but his throat was rough and his words sounded like a harsh bark. "Too bad. I was looking forward to cracking some heads."

The agent rolled his shoulders. "Maybe next time, Canderous." He winked, smirking, and pocketed a credit from inside the sack he held. "I better get this over to Davik. I'll call you if anyone else gets behind on their payments."

Cortessa giggled for, as soon as the agent turned his back, Canderous rolled his eyes and took aim with his repeater, pretending to blast the man to bits before he turned away.

"Let's talk to him, doll!" Cortessa squealed quietly, tugging at Carth's hands.

Carth gaped. "Are you nuts?" he gasped as she pulled him to his feet and dragged him towards the Mandalorian.

"Hello, there!" Cortessa said good-naturedly.

Carth felt his hands go cold. He felt like he was going to turn into a mound of mush.

Canderous cocked his gun in her direction in greeting. "Those Vulkars are dumber than a Coruscant granite slug. They actually think that being in that pathetic gang of theirs makes them important. Gadon keeps his Hidden Beks in line, but Brejik's getting dreams of grandeur. If Davik's smart, he'll slap that young punk back down."

Cortessa tilted her head cutely. "May I ask, who are you?"

Canderous shook his head, recoiling as she snuck closer. Carth hid behind Cortessa. "I'm someone you don't want to get on the bad side of, and I'm not one for small talk," the Mandalorian muttered. "I don't have time to stick around here, anyway. Davik's got me working on a special assignment." He said this as if the words made him feel sick.

"I'll see you around, then," Cortessa told him. They saluted each other and Canderous wandered off.

Carth felt weak. "You're insane, Cortessa. Truly insane." He knew that, most likely, without Cortessa's luck with other people, Carth would be a smear on the ground. He was truly lucky to have her with him.

"I love you, too, doll," she replied. "Come on. We still have to get to the Undercity." She took his wrist and led him down the streets to an elevator, where a Sith stood guard. She flashed the guard a smile before she reached for the door.

"Hold on there, civilian!" the guard barked. "Only those with official Sith business are allowed into the Undercity. Unless you've got the proper security papers you better just turn around and go back the way you came."

Cortessa frowned. "But…"

"LEAVE, DAMMIT!"

Cortessa blanched. "Okay."

The Sith cleared his throat. "Good. I don't have time for this foolishness. Down here we run a tight ship – not like the slipshod operation in the Upper City."

Cortessa backed away and walked out of hearing distance of the guard. "Just great. _Another_ roadblock," she seethed. She paused, looking up at him. "Hey… are you alright?"

Carth blinked. "Yeah," he said. "Why?"

She shrugged. "Never mind. I want to discuss something with you."

Carth and Cortessa had never had a proper conversation. The suggestion of one surprised him. "You do?" he said. "Well, fair enough. What do you want to discuss?"

She clasped her hands behind her back, setting her face into a serious expression. "We didn't finish our conversation last time."

Carth made a noise between a laugh and a sigh. He shook his head. Of course, it was understandable why she was upset. He had really been abrupt last time. "I'm sorry. I knew you wouldn't understand where I was coming from," he murmured. "Let me try to explain." He took a deep breath. "You're probably one of the most skilled women I've ever met. You've saved my butt more than once and I'm lucky you're here to help me, no question." She smiled warmly, and he realized he was giving her too much room. He backed out, but he had already planned on telling her this… just not as harshly. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop watching you or being wary. I'm just not built that way. Period."

Cortessa frowned, putting her hands on her hips. For the first time in several days he could see her feeling cold towards him. She rocked her head from side to side sassily. "And just _what_, exactly, are you watching me for?"

Carth stammered. "I don't know that yet." She raised an eyebrow in that way she did. Damn her. He rolled his eyes, putting his voice in a flat, monotonous tone. "Like I said before, it's probably nothing. But I've been betrayed before by people and I…" he took a deep breath, "well… it just won't happen again. That's all."

Cortessa's face grew red. He was stunned. She was _angry _at him. She had never been _angry_ at him. Her voice was shrill as she shouted. "Of course it won't happen again if you never trust anyone!"

Carth cringed. "Look… I'm not trying to insult you. This is just the way I am. No need to take it personally."

But she was going to take it personally. "DON'T TELL ME NOT TO TAKE IT PERSONALLY, YOU HAIRLESS WOOKIEE!" she screamed.

What? She wasn't going to call him 'doll?' The wry, sarcastic thought struck him hard. A defense mechanism. He grabbed it and used it to try and calm her down. "Hairless Wookiee? Alright, sister, just… just… just calm down, before your head explodes."

She wouldn't have it. Her eyes burned him. "We'll just see whose head explodes, you ungrateful monkey-lizard!"

The words escaped him before he could stop himself. "Is that your idea of an insult? Come on, sister, take your best shot!" This sounded familiar, but now it wasn't playful.

Just like before, her face turned beet red and the words came out in an angry bubble. "DROOLING BOMARR CAST-OFF!"

Carth actually laughed and she seemed to deflate. "Oh, ouch. I think you hurt my man-feelings with that one."

She had definitely deflated. She bowed her head, kicking a rock on the ground lamely. "Well, you had it coming," she muttered.

Carth smiled. "I guess I did. Feel better now?"

Cortessa smiled weakly at him. "Maybe a little."

Whoops. He had let her in again. He sealed it off. "Good. Then maybe we can talk reasonably about this." He shook his head. "All I've been trying to say is that this isn't personal. If you were smart, you wouldn't trust anyone, either… not me, not Bastila, and especially not yourself."

Cortessa was done being angry. She raised her eyebrows, interested, and a small smirk had come onto her face. "Ah… so you don't trust yourself, is that it?"

Carth narrowed his eyes. "I don't need to be analyzed, thanks. Can we get back to business?"

She frowned. He had put her out. Good. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

He got irritated now. "No, I don't want to talk about it! What I want to do is save the galaxy, if that's even possible." But curiosity struck up. He shook his head. "Why does whether or not I trust you - or anyone - so damned important to you? Why… why do you even _care_?"

She opened her mouth to reply. He couldn't allow that.

"We don't have time for this, so can we please just… drop it? For now? Can we pick it up later if you really must? I… want to get underway."

"You'll trust me someday, Carth," she told him.

He sighed. "Don't get your hopes up."

But she had already started down the street.

------

The brown-skinned woman at the door was more vulture-like than Cortessa had first suspected. "Hey! You can't just walk in here! This is the Hidden Bek base! How do I know you aren't a Vulkar spy sent to kill Gadon Thek?"

"I need Gadon's help. I was told to speak to him," Cortessa said smoothly, working the old mill, worming her way into her wishes. She always did, in the end. It was her talent.

The lookout studied her warily. What a wench. She needed a bottle of ale and a Twi'lek five-credit blow, she honestly did. "A lot of people want to go inside and speak to Gadon. He's a hero of the common folk. But the days of the Hidden Bek's open-door policy are gone. Between the Sith conquest and the Vulkar gang war Gadon has more enemies than he used to. We're being extra careful about who we let in now." Blah… blah… blah…

Cortessa smiled sweetly, allowing her lashes to flash her eyes attractively. "Maybe I can be an ally against all those enemies."

Carth shook his head at her. What was he trying to tell her? She reached back and grabbed his sleeve and she could feel him let out a long sigh behind her.

He needed a bottle of ale and a Twi'lek five-credit blow, too.

The lookout softened. "Well, we do need all the help we can get. And you don't look like you're with the Vulkars or the Sith. Besides, it's not like you can do anything to harm Gadon in the heart of his own base. Not with Zaerdra watching his back."

Cortessa's eyes brightened. Finally! "So you're going to let me in?"

The lookout cracked her neck. Cortessa suppressed a groan. It must be a local thing. Everyone here was rolling their shoulders and cracking their necks. It was disgusting. The lookout spoke up again, her eyes wandering down the halls. "Go in and speak to Gadon if you want. Just remember to be on your best behavior. The Hidden Beks are watching you."

"Five-credit blow," Cortessa sang under her breath, slipping through the door. She herself had never had a five-credit blow, but from the way her old bunk mate on her old smuggling ship - the Goliath - had told her, it definitely cured.

Carth bumped into her from behind. It was cute, really, how he tailed her like a Kath Hound cub, and he always got so flustered whenever he touched her, like right now. He backed away, stammering a quiet apology.

"It's alright, doll," she said absently, waving a hand. He hated the nickname, she knew, but he would get used to it. People paced back and forth, mostly humans and Twi'leks, but she spotted a Rodian having a sparring match with his shadow off in the corner. Rodians were well-known for being sporty and hard-wearing little guys with spunk and cleverness. They were often used as bodyguards, scouts, and smugglers.

And the Twi'leks. They were all best known for sex and temper, nothing more. The poor fellows. It was especially odd since they had sex via-headtail, but humans apparently weren't so picky.

Sighing, Cortessa counted the blue circles that led up to Gadon Thek's desk. One… two… three… four… five… six –

"Hold it right there!" barked a Twi'lek bodyguard, drawing her blaster instantly. Cortessa summed her up. White skin, blue headtails… blue eyes and lips… She was a rare breed. Cortessa snapped out of it. The Twi'lek was talking. "Who are you and what is your business with Gadon?"

The old man chuckled. "Calm down, Zaerdra. Nobody is going to try anything here in the middle of my own base. It would be a suicide mission."

Zaerdra twitched, raising her eyebrows. "And who says someone wouldn't commit suicide to kill you?" she cried. "You're too trusting, Gadon! Brejik and his Vulkars want you _dead_! Anyone we don't know is a potential threat, and it's my job to make sure you're safe!"

Cortessa rolled her eyes. She sounded like Carth. Carth apparently sensed this and gave her a nudge. She nudged him back.

Gadon's ears turned red with irritation. "Do you want us to start attacking strangers on sight, Zaerdra? Like the Vulkars do? I will _never_ let it come to that! Now step aside and let them pass."

Zaerdra tensed up, her face twisting into an expression of utmost pain. "As you wish." She turned to Cortessa, looking her up and down. Cortessa thrust out her chest and hips in an intimidating way. The Twi'lek shuddered, and Cortessa could see her palms go red. She wanted to rip out Cortessa's throat. Carth rested his hand on his blaster in caution. Cortessa shot him a look and he kept his hands unthreateningly at his sides.

"You can speak to Gadon if you want, but I've got my eye on you!" the Twi'lek hissed. "You try anything and you'll be vaporized before you can say, 'Vulkar spy!'"

Cortessa wrinkled her nose and saluted. "Positively absolutely, Butch."

Screaming, Zaerdra kicked the wall with anger.

She needed a bottle of ale and a five-credit blow, too, from _anyone_. Cortessa could hardly believe how uptight people were around here.

"You'll have to forgive Zaerdra," Gadon said warmly. She looked at him and was stunned by those artificial eyes staring back at her. She bit back a yelp and stood there calmly as he continued speaking. "Ever since Brejik and the Vulkars began this war against us, she's been a little over-zealous in her security duties." _Zaerdra over-zealous. Catchy, _Cortessa thought. Gadon sighed. "The problems with the Sith haven't helped things. Zaerdra seems to forget that I know how to look after myself!" He said this more to the Twi'lek than Cortessa. Zaerdra sneered. Gadon fixed his jacket, looking to Cortessa. "Now, how can I help you?"

Cortessa smiled again. "I need information on those Republic escape pods that crashed in the Undercity."

Carth shifted behind her. _I need air, you Bantha. Get off my tail._ Cortessa bowed her head, weathering through it for now.

Gadon blinked. "The escape pods? You know, I heard the Sith have been asking around the Upper City about them as well… but you don't look like you're with the Sith."

Cortessa rolled her eyes beneath her lashes. How would _he_ know, the blind old man?

Zaerdra burst out. "They might be spies, Gadon! They might be working for the Sith!"

Gadon glared at her. "_Calm down_, Zaerdra! If the Sith thought we knew anything they'd have a battalion of troops kicking down our door. No, I think this off-worlder has her own agenda."

Cortessa pressed a hand to her leather vest. "Don't worry, Gadon. I'm not working with the Sith, I assure you."

Gadon smiled approvingly. "I suppose I could tell you what I know," he said slowly. "It's not like it could do any harm to me or my gang… but it might cause problems for the Vulkars, and that's okay in my book." He paused and Cortessa slid a credit across the table. Zaerdra fumed. Gadon picked up again. "The Vulkars stripped those pods clean within hours after they landed. It's too bad we didn't get there first, considering what my spies reported the Vulkars found."

"What did they find?"

Gadon cleared his throat. Another credit passed between them. This guy may be nice, but he sure wasn't generous. "A female Republic officer named Bastila Shan survived the crash. We Beks don't believe in intergalactic slavery, but the Vulkars aren't so picky. They took her prisoner."

Cortessa covered her surprise by batting her eyelashes rapidly. "Bastila's a slave? What will happen to her now?" Carth nudged her. She bent her knee swiftly, kicking him in the shin inconspicuously. He yelped and backed away a step. Zaerdra studied them approvingly.

Gadon rolled his shoulders. Cortessa pursed her lips and passed another credit. "She's too valuable to leave with the Vulkar scum at the base," Gadon said. "Brejik's probably got your Republic friend hidden away somewhere safe until the big swoop race. You'll never find her."

Cortessa swore. "There has to be some way I can get to her," she growled.

Gadon didn't take her credits this time. "I'm afraid your friend has become a pawn in Brejik's game to take over the Lower City. He's offered her up as the Vulkar's share of the prize in the annual swoop gang race."

"Why?"

"By putting up such a valuable prize, Brejik hopes to win the loyalty of some of the smaller gangs. Their numbers will allow him to finally destroy me and my followers."

Carth frowned, speaking up for once. Cortessa flinched. She hated it when he did that. "So how do you propose we go about rescuing Bastila, then? We can't fight all the gangs."

Gadon was stoic.

"What the hell," Cortessa snapped loudly, and slammed a ten-mark credit on the desk.

Gadon grinned. "The only hope you have of rescuing Bastila is to somehow win the big season opener of the swoop race."

Cortessa groaned. "But I don't even have a swoop bike."

Gadon thought for a moment before he said slowly, "I might be able to help you with this. If you'd be willing to help us." Growling, she reached into her pocket, and he laughed. "No, no credits this time. But we both have something to gain here – and much to lose."

Cortessa raised an eyebrow, interested. "What you proposing?"

Behind her, she could hear a Bek giggle, "You might wanna pull up a seat!"

------

**Author's Notes: **Ooooo! What kind of evil conspiracy is Gadon going to force on our poor little Carth and Cortessa?

Well, we all know, but…

WAIT TO SEE WHAT IT'S LIKE IN A FANFICTION, DURNIT!

**SilverSentinal21 **- Did I give you enough of Cortessa's brain yet? XD

**Amme Moto **- No, I haven't. If you ever find it again, let me know, eh?


	8. Undercity Stink

**Savior Self**

_Taris part seven._

**Rated PG13**

**Disclaimer: **Hahahaha. I accidentally typed in, "rated PG23."

**Savior Self**

Cortessa stalked out of there fifteen credits short, with Carth very close on her tail. She wanted to slap him. He seemed to sense this and slowed down to keep his distance.

Maybe he wasn't so dumb, after all.

"This better work," Cortessa snarled, fingering the papers in her hands. "If it doesn't…"

"Zaerdra will rend your head from your shoulders, that's what will happen," Carth reminded her. "Calm down. I've never seen you this angry." That was a lie – in fact, that very day he had seen her angry.

Cortessa twitched. "I'm not _angry_," she replied harshly, stopping fifty feet from the guard to poke Carth in the chest. He stepped back. "I'm _frustrated_. You don't want to be on my bad side when I'm _angry_." She shook her head and approached the guard.

"Hold on there –" the guard began, but she shoved the papers in his face.

"I've got the gods-damn paper, so let me through," she told him.

The guard swiped the papers away. "Let me see that," he growled, and began reading, muttering under his breath. Cortessa snarled at him.

"So?"

"Uh… yeah. Yeah. These seem to be in order," the guard said, handing her the papers. She peered into his helmet but couldn't see his face. She didn't like that. The guard rolled his shoulders and she bit back a scream of frustration. _Why_ did _everyone _have that _obnoxious_ habit?

As she turned to leave, the guard grabbed her shoulder. "Listen," he said. "The Undercity is crawling with mutants – rakghouls, they call 'em. If you see anything moving down there, shoot first and ask questions later."

She blinked. Concern from a Sith? She shrugged her arm away. "I'll bear that in mind," she hissed, and he got back in his place.

Carth nudged her as they stepped into the elevator. "You're testy."

She nudged him back as the door shut, but said nothing in reply.

------

They stepped through to the Undercity, and Carth instantly felt his head begin to real at the stench. The whole place reeked of decay and mold and sickness… and death… People with pale skin, sunken eyes, and tear-filled expressions wandered about aimlessly, some with small children walking behind them and hanging onto their tattered, soiled robes. Small fires dimly lit the Undercity, so that the shadows danced and leered. There was no sky, only the dripping streets acting as a dreary ceiling. The skinny, starving children that sat about paid no attention to the sewage that dripped onto their heads.

Carth felt his heart stutter. This place was awful. He rested a hand on Cortessa's shoulder. She wasn't breathing. She shook her head and took a deep breath before she sighed.

"You there! Up-worlder! Anyone using this elevator has to pay the toll!" cried a voice.

Carth and Cortessa looked around. Two angry men stood there, identical in appearance, with their hair pulled back with similar worn thongs.

"Yeah!" shouted the second one. "This is our elevator! You use it, you've got to give us something!"

Carth was galled. He couldn't believe it! They were hitting them up for credits, just like that! He gaped. "I don't believe this planet! Even the beggars are trying to shake us down!"

The Outcast brothers motioned their hands. "Five credits! That's what it costs to use our elevator! Five credits!"

Cortessa bit her lip. "But this is a public elevator," she said.

The second brother burst into tears, sinking to his knees and grasping Cortessa's hand. She gasped, recoiling.

"Please have pity on us!" he blubbered. "We have nothing! All we ask is a few credits to make our lives easier!"

Cortessa wiped her hands on her pants, but her expression softened. "Okay, fine. Here's five credits. Be well."

The brothers grinned and held each other. The first giggled gleefully.

"Credits, my brother!" cried the second. "We have credits! Now we can buy food and medicine!"

The first's eyes widened and he tucked the credits in his brother's robes. "Hush, or the others will hear us! They'll want our credits! We have to hide them!"

"But where -?"

A woman… a young woman, just at the first stages of adulthood… rushed forward, brandishing an old, bent, rusted tube of metal. "Go on, you two! Get out of here!" she shouted.

The men squealed and ran, hunched over to protect the credits in their shirts.

The woman slowed to a stop, shaking her head sadly, and turned to Carth and Cortessa. She dropped the tube of metal and spoke to them. "I'm sorry about that. Those two beggars give everyone in the village a bad name. We aren't all like that, you know. Most of us are good people."

Carth glanced at Cortessa, who was eying the girl with dislike. He put on a warm, friendly air. It was a trained soldier's instinct to treat woman with respect, even if they stank like the Undercity. "I'm sure you are, miss," he said, and Cortessa shot him a look, raising an eyebrow. He ignored her. "It's just too bad your little welcoming committee is there to give people a bad first impression." _Not like the smell and rot wouldn't do that anyway._

Cortessa cut in, pushing Carth aside. The woman standing before them blinked, her eyes growing wide.

"I'm Cortessa Blatt," Cortessa offered. "Who are you?"

The woman tucked her hair away, pursing her lips for a moment. "My name is Shaleena… you're from the up-world, aren't you? I've… I've never seen it. I was born here in the Undercity. Is it as nice as they say up there?" She sounded so sad and beaten.

Carth gave Cortessa a look. _Don't make it worse._

Cortessa sighed, looking down at her feet. "It's nothing special," she muttered.

Shaleena seemed to like to find the negative in everything, for instantly she said, "Not to you, I suppose. But you're probably used to its beauty by now." Carth frowned. Shaleena took a deep breath and repeated herself. "I've never been to the surface." She shook her head. "But sometimes I think I can see it in my dreams. The sun… the sky… the stars… it all sounds so… so… so wonderful… Gendar, the leader of our village, tells me I should spend more time trying to improve things down here and less time dreaming about something I can never have." She bit her lip, her brows frowning. "Maybe he's right." She laughed bitterly. "You probably think I'm a fool… having dreams of a place I've never even seen…. But when I was little, Rukil used to tell me stories of what it was like up there."

Cortessa tilted her head to one side. "Rukil? Who's that?"

Shaleena smiled. "Rukil's the oldest man in the village. The kids call him Rukil Wrinkle-Skin, but he's a kind man. He used to tell me the greatest stories when I was a little girl. I still like to listen to his tales about the Promised Land, even though I know they're just legends. But it helps to make the Undercity seem less… less dark, somehow."

Carth was shocked when Cortessa whispered in his ear, "Sounds like someone needs some anti-depressants."

"Be nice," he hissed, nudging her harshly.

She rolled her eyes. "Where can I find Rukil, do you know?" she asked Shaleena.

Shaleena rolled her shoulders. Cortessa seemed to twitch. "He's wandering around somewhere on the south side of the village. He doesn't move too far… it's hard on his bones. He's over 100 years old!" Being that old wasn't unusual nowadays, with medicine being as strong and effective as it is now, but for someone living here, in this place that reeked of death… it was probably something of a miracle. Shaleena smiled wistfully. "The children laugh at him and people think he's crazy because of his stories about the Promised Land, but he's really just a kind old man."

Cortessa sighed. "I want to as you some questions."

Shaleena flushed. "I don't know much. You'd probably get more information from Gendar, the village leader. Or maybe Rukil. But I'll tell you whatever I can…"

"Were can I find Gendar?"

Shaleena nodded unhappily. "He'll be somewhere in the village. I couldn't say where for sure. He's always busy, doing whatever he can to make the lives of the other villagers easier."

Cortessa looked at Carth, who smiled approvingly. She looked back to Shaleena. "I'll be going now."

Shaleena looked from Carth to Cortessa and back again. Carth had gotten used to the speculations of others, however, and dismissed the glances. "_Oh_… o-okay. Well, if you ever need anything, or if just feel like talking, come back and see me. I hardly ever get a chance to speak to someone from the up-world."

Carth nodded and Cortessa dragged him off. "Don't get too attached, doll," she told him, but the nickname seemed dried up and not so affectionate. "I can't have you stinking like the Undercity when we save Bastila."

Carth smirked. "Are you sure that's what's setting you off?"

She turned around on her heel and glared at him. "I'm _positive,_" she growled.

He looked her over. She was pale and her eyes were glazed over, and there were dark rings underneath them. He frowned. "You had another nightmare, didn't you?"

"I'd rather not get into it," she grumbled.

"Hey, you wouldn't let me get away with that, and I'm not –"

"After I talk with Gendar we'll go back to the apartments and discuss it," she snapped. "Not right now."

He nodded and followed her around the village until they came across a weathered, brown-skinned man with a warm smile.

"Greetings, up-worlder," he said in a friendly way. "We rarely see your kind here in the Undercity. I find it strange that so many of you have come down from the surface recently."

Carth winced as a drop of something black and stinky landed on his shoulder. He didn't dare touch it. "No offense, but I can see why people normally avoid this place," he mumbled.

Gendar's eyes grew cold. "Why have you come into this dark and sunless place, then? Is there something you need of me or my village?"

Cortessa smiled unthreateningly. Gendar seemed to respond to her better (people always did), and didn't look twice at Carth when she asked for some information.

"Ask your questions, up-worlder. I will answer to the best of my knowledge, though I know little beyond the borders of the Undercity."

Cortessa played with one of the strands of her hair that had fallen in her face. "You said something about up-worlders who came by here recently?"

Gendar rolled his shoulders. Carth bit back a chuckle when he saw Cortessa's eyes grow wide with a sudden, abrupt lust for blood. Apparently the local habits drove her nuts. She quickly calmed herself, however, when Gendar spoke. "Our village has seen many visitors from the surface recently: armored troops, swoop gang members, mercenaries. They come to search our sunless world. They are even searching the sewers."

"Who are your people? Why do you live here in the Undercity?" She ducked to avoid something wet and slimy that had fallen from the ceiling.

Gendar sighed. "We are the Outcasts – shunned from the surface for our crimes and banished here to the Undercity. We banded together to form this village that we might survive in this hostile environment. I am Gendar, the leader of this village; as my father was, and as was his father before him. Many of us have been here for generations, our ancestors cast down long ago."

"That's not very fair," Carth said. Gendar glanced at him.

"Yes, there is no return to the surface for us, or our descendants. But somehow we manage to survive amidst the filth and roaming bands of deadly rakghouls."

Cortessa was interested. "Tell me about the rakghouls that live down here."

Carth groaned. Oh great. Another threat. First the Sith, then the bounty hunters, then the drunks, then the horny men hiring bounty hunters, then the gangs, and now flesh-eating mutants.

Gendar spoke with passion, his voice sad and angry. "The rakghouls are monsters, hideous mutations who feast about the flesh of our villagers. Their diseased jaws can infect those they attack, transforming the victim into one of those abominations."

Cortessa made a noise. Did she feel sorry for them? "Isn't there a cure?" she asked.

Gendar sighed unhappily. "We know of no cure of the disease, and for the good of the village we must banish any who become infected, lest they transform and turn on us."

Cortessa frowned. "I'm sorry."

Gendar rolled his shoulders.

Carth snorted into his first and looked away.

"I'm looking for a Twi'lek named Mission Vao," Cortessa said. "Do you know anyone by that name?"

Gender thought for a moment. "Blue? Kind of skinny? Big Wookiee?" he asked.

"That's right."

"Yes, I have seen this Twi'lek many times," Gendar said. "But I have never spoken to her. She and her Wookiee companion often pass through our village on their way to explore the sewers."

Cortessa cocked her head. "How can I get to the sewers?"

Gendar pointed. "There are two entrances into the sewers from the Undercity: one to the north-eat of our village, the other to the south-east. But the sewers are dangerous, Up-Worlder. If you dare to travel into those dark tunnels you would be wise to go heavily armed, unless you wish to become a meal for the rakghouls and other foul creatures."

Cortessa bit her lip. "I think I'll be going now."

Gendar bowed. "As you wish, up-worlder. Should you have need of anything else, come speak to me. I represent the entire village and I will do my best to help you however I can."

Carth was amazed. He liked this man. Even though his village had almost nothing, he was still offering to give up whatever he had to help an up-worlder. While Cortessa made her way to inspect the gates before she left, he craftily slipped a ten-mark credit into Gendar's lap.

Gendar smiled at him. "You will do well, someday, up-worlder," he said softly, and turned to check his supplies.

------

**Author's Notes: **Hmm. I think I liked this chapter a bit. Taris is nearing the middle marker! Yaaay! Soon Mission Vao will make an appearance! Do the dance!

**SilverSentinal21 **-I never said Carth /would/ get one. Cortessa merely thought that he /should/. And she didn't get one. An old bunkmate did. Just as well, I'm glad you had the courage to get after me for something like that. I really appreciate that you pay attention.

**Amme Moto **- Oh, yes. I remember that. I figured it was a board game, since I read a fanfiction once where they mentioned peices moving... oh well.


	9. Igear's Salvage Shop

**Savior Self**

_Supastaaah…_

_Taris part eight_

**Rated PG13**

**Disclaimer: **Hahaha. If I owned Star Wars, I actually think I _still_ might be writing fanfiction. XD

**Savior Self**

"So," Carth said, folding his jacket neatly and setting it on a seat. It was still wet from being washed to get the stink of the Undercity off of it, but it would be dry by morning.

Cortessa stepped out of the bathroom, mussing her hair vigorously before she stood there in her underwear, arms folded as she studied him. "So, what?"

"You never told me about your nightmare."

She drew a finger over her teeth. "I don't know. I keep having these weird dreams… it's no big deal." She sat down on her bed, clutching her ankles and letting her knees jut out like wings.

"I guess that smack to your head did some real damage," Carth said thoughtfully. She glowered.

"I _am not_ injured," she growled. "You just want an excuse to badger me."

"So what if I do?"

She didn't reply. She had curled up under her sheets. Her dark hair spread out in beautiful black swirls over the pillow, and there was nothing else of her that he could see. As the sun faded she was cast in a strange russet glow, and he was reminded of the sun gods in Iridorian mythology.

Black serpents abroad tongues of flame roared down from the sky, gracing women with children and men with the hot fury to bring down their opponents. The serpents taught the villages fear… the burn of fire and the taste of blood upon one's tongue. And while the gods were things of horror and malicious, cunning evil, they were things of inexplicable and inescapable beauty.

But though she was enchanting and had effectively ended the conversation, he wouldn't be outdone. He got up and pressed his hands on the bed, rolling her over and forcing her to face him. She gazed up at him with earnest blue eyes, her face expressionless.

"You're going to see the local doctor in the morning," he told her. "No excuses."

She wrinkled her nose. "But we have to find Mission in the Undercity," she argued, even as he turned off the lights and shut her out like she herself had done moments ago.

The sun vanished beneath the horizon, and the two were left in silence.

------

The next morning it was all too clear that Cortessa intended to make Carth's day miserable. She started by vanishing mysteriously once again, only to return with hot caffa and 'accidentally' dump it all over him. To make up for it, she gave him something round and spongy, and when he bit it, it exploded into millions of tiny, colored balls.

Next she stole the 'fresher from him for a full hour, and nearly let her towel drop in front of him, before she stole his jacket and insisted on visiting him while he was still in the 'fresher.

He couldn't find his pants. She had lost them. After thoroughly searching the apartment, he found them hanging on a hook in the hallway while an Ithorian studied them curiously. In the time it took to find his pants, she had set his only other shirt up in flames, and had beat it out with his jacket, which she still wore afterwards.

She tripped him as they left that morning, sending him sprawling into a Twi'lek woman, who shrieked and slapped him, and ran off crying. Her husband kicked Carth in the stomach and took off after her. Cortessa didn't bother to help him up as she sashayed up the elevator and left him there swearing.

She closed the door before he could reach her, and apparently held the button down, because in the end he had to take the stairs, which took a half an hour, by which time she had already harassed a Sith guard, who planned on breaking her skinny neck. It only took some powerful persuasion on Carth's part to pardon her, and then she slipped the Sith's shocker stick in Carth's pocket.

The Sith found it was missing, and pummeled Carth into a pulp, before he was satisfied.

Carth, bruised, beaten, and weary, walked sulkily behind Cortessa, and sincerely considered grasping her fancy little braid and pulling it with all his might.

------

Zelka Forn's facility was homely and small, and the walls were covered from top to bottom with calendars, papers, and shelves loaded with medicines. The place smelled stuffy and quiet, as if there hadn't been much movement for a while, and a weary-looking old man leaned against the wall, lost in one of his books.

His assistants – a quiet, off-line droid and a cocky middle-aged man – were silent, though the latter watched the newcomers with intensity. He kept his hands in his pockets, but his face was twisted with a coyote-like smile.

Carth didn't like him. Cortessa could see him grip his blasters once for comfort before he calmed down and looked away, docile and calm for the time being. She patted him on the shoulder and approached the man, wondering if this was Zelka Forn, or just another assistant.

The man looked up, his brown face questioning but polite. He looked Carth and Cortessa up and down and nodded in approval before he tucked a datapad marker behind his ear.

"I see from your appearance that you are an off-worlder," he said matter-of-factly, his eyes piercing Cortessa's. Though he seemed to be a little too tame, she liked him. This was definitely Zelka. Zelka sighed. "Still, you are welcome here. I'll not have it said that Zelka Forn refused to help somebody just because they weren't a citizen of Taris." He shook his head. "Do you require healing or medical supplies? I can treat almost any injury or ailment right here in the medical facility, except the rakghoul disease, of course."

Cortessa's eyes grew bright. Carth groaned behind her. She could tell he knew that she was skipping around their real business, but she ignored him. He needed to loosen up before she would speak to him again. "I heard about the rakghoul disease. Is there no cure?"

Zelka made a discontented noise. "There is no antidote for the disease," he said unhappily, "though I heard the Republic scientists at the military base here on Taris were close to perfecting a cure. Then the Sith arrived." His voice grew angry, and Cortessa was fascinated. "They overran the military base and now they refuse to allow anyone access into the laboratories inside! The Sith are keeping all the serum for the patrols they send into the Undercity!" He thrust his fist for emphasis. "If I could just get my hands on a sample of that serum, the rakghoul disease could be wiped from the face of Taris forever!" Suddenly he was sobered and bowed his head. "But I don't see how that's going to happen."

Cortessa was interested. They were going into the Undercity anyway… why not help a good cause? "Maybe I could find a way to get my hands on that serum for you," she offered. She heard Carth grunt with astonished approval. She cracked a smile. Good.

Zelka looked at her earnestly, his eyes soft and pleading. "I don't see how anyone could get their hands on that serum. The military base is crawling with Sith guards. Breaking in there would be a suicide mission." He bit his lip and his voice grew quiet, as if he didn't want anyone to hear, even though nobody was around. "I suppose the Sith patrols in the Undercity might have a sample of the serum on them, if they hadn't already used it because of a rakghoul infection. But I doubt a patrol would just hand the serum over." He caught the thoughtful glint in her eye and interrupted her. "And _nobody's _stupid enough to attack one of the Sith patrols, even in the Undercity."

Cortessa smiled. _I'm nobody_. She bowed swiftly and Carth suddenly intervened.

"She needs some healing," Carth said. "She got smacked in the head and… well… she hasn't been quite right."

Cortessa glowered at him, imagining wrapping her fingers around his throat. Carth stared back blankly, and with a frustrated twitch she looked back to Zelka.

"It will just take me a moment while I examine your injuries, and then I'll administer the proper treatment," Zelka said, laying her down on the table and taking her head in his hands. The touch was so intimate in a way, but at the same time strictly formal, and she felt herself blush as he studied her, tilting her jaw this way and that before he requested she roll over. She glanced in Carth's direction. The soldier's face was twisted with something or other.

Constipation, was it? She doubted it. She considered it for a moment but decided to forget it. Whatever his problem was, it wasn't her concern.

Something wet and cool pressed against the back of her neck.

"What happened to you?" Zelka murmured.

"She doesn't remember," Carth said quickly. "And I wasn't there."

Zelka glanced at him. "I see," he said. "Do you two travel together often?"

Cortessa squirmed with embarrassment. She understood the suspiciousness of a man and a woman traveling together, but why must _everyone _draw such an _awful _conclusion? To her utter horror, Carth replied smoothly, "Yes."

She would kick his sorry can all the way down to the Undercity for this. He seemed to sense this and said nothing more.

------

The checkup was quick but Cortessa had to admit she felt better once it was over. Zelka allowed her to explore the facility as much as she pleased. He didn't even say a word when she studied the various medicinal bottles that rested on nearby shelves. However, as she approached the only door in the facility and opened it, he cried out in alarm.

"What are you doing? Don't go in there! That door is for employees only!"

But it was too late. Cortessa stood, stunned, her arms hanging limply at her sides. It was the first time in a while that she had been so horribly shocked that she actually was mute and dumb. The room was lined wall-to-wall with kolto tanks, and each held one or two men, floating silently, their heads bowed and shut tight as they slept. Their faces were pale and marred, and they were stripped down to nothing to reveal their bloody, torn, wounded bodies. Carth was breathless beside her.

"These men…" he gasped at last. "They're… they're Republic soldiers!"

Zelka seemed to be so frightened that he was stunned. "You… you recognize these soldiers? But how? Unless… unless you're a friend of the Republic." His eyes grew wide with relief and hope.

Cortessa smiled warmly. "I'm a friend of the Republic," she said gently. "You can trust me."

Carth's eyes snapped to her face again. Suspicion flickered behind his expression and Cortessa pursed her lips, irritated.

Zelka was shaking with relief. "I guess… I guess I better tell you what's going on. I only hope the Sith don't find out what I've done." His voice cracked and he cleared his throat before he spoke clearly and calmly. "Since the space battle overhead, people have been secretly bringing in these Republic soldiers who crashed landed on the planet. I had to take them in. What choice did I have?" He shook his head sadly. "Their injuries are terrible… most won't survive. But at least I can make their last days more comfortable. And at least they are hidden away from the Sith."

Carth seemed to have recovered. He looked to be truly moved. "Well, for that you have my thanks. It's a good thing to know that at least some of these men ended up in compassionate hands." Cortessa glanced at him. Was that a jibe to how she had been treating him?

Zelka looked blanched and upset. "I hate to imagine what the Sith would do if they discovered these soldiers here. But since their initial questioning the Sith have not returned, so it may be that my fears are unfounded."

Cortessa was touched. She glanced back at the men, her heart softening. "Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked.

Zelka shook his head unhappily. Cortessa noted with relief that he lacked the normal native Tarisian habits of cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders. "I'm afraid there is nothing more anyone can do for these soldiers. Now, if you'll excuse me, I should return to the front in case anyone comes in needing medical attention."

As Cortessa gazed back forlornly at the men in the kolto tanks, Zelka reached past her and silently closed the door.

------

Again, Carth and Cortessa made their way into the Undercity. The guard recognized Cortessa and, with a somewhat foggy visor, quickly granted them entrance. As Carth bodily shoved Cortessa inside the elevator, she blew the guard a kiss.

"I think you've scared the poor man out of his wits," Carth informed her.

She glared at him and looked away.

"Hey, you can't stay mad at me forever," Carth murmured, but she didn't look at him again, so he fell silent.

The Undercity stunk as worse the second time around, but at least they were prepared, and weren't stunned like they were the last time. Carth urged his companion ahead, avoiding the gazes of the Outcasts, who all studied them as if they were something odd and frightening.

One sneaky-looking man reached out and grabbed Carth's hand, speaking in a sloppy, slimy voice. "Hey, you ain't from the village! You're from the up-world, ain't you? Yes, you've got credits, I bet!"

As Carth pulled his hand free he hissed in Cortessa's ear. "Watch yourself. There's something slimy about this guy. I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him."

Cortessa snarled at him. "That's because _you_ don't trust _anybody_," she growled, and Carth, wounded, said nothing more. She looked back to the man and asked, "Who are you?"

The man grinned a large grin, and his teeth were a sickly black. "My name's Igear," he drawled. "I run a little salvage shop here. You want to buy something from my store? I got some good deals."

Cortessa raised an eyebrow. "How do you manage to run a store in the Undercity?"

Igear rolled his shoulders. "If a villager comes across any useful salvage in the Undercity, they bring it to me. Every so often members from the Lower City gangs come down to trade for salvage. They'll exchange food and medicine for engine parts, old blasters, and the like. Sometimes, they even give me credits if I have some really good stuff."

Cortessa seemed to be holding her breath. Her voice grew faint and her breath became shallow. Carth was amused. "I want to ask you some questions," she croaked.

Igear's eyes grew wide with fright. "Oh, you better ask Gendar – he's the spokesman for the village. I just run the store! I don't want to make him mad by answering any questions!" His voice grew soft. "Gendar already doesn't like me."

Cortessa seemed to scrounge up some sympathy. "Why doesn't Gendar like you?" she asked.

Igear looked away, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He mumbled as he spoke. "Gendar seems to think I should share the profits of my store with the whole village," he muttered. "He figures we're all in this together so it should be share and share alike." His voice grew loud in his protest. "But _I'm _the one who runs the store! _I'm _the one that makes the deals! The others just bring me salvage to trade with the up-worlders – why should they get anything?"

Cortessa frowned, wrinkling her nose. "That's a pretty selfish attitude, you whelp."

Igear looked like he had been whipped. "Hey, you don't know what it's like down here!" he cried. "I have to claw and scrape to survive! Nobody else looks out for me! But Gendar doesn't agree with my philosophy. He caught me hoarding supplies a while back. I figured I'd wait until food was scarce and then I could offer it to people who'd follow me instead of Gendar. Then I'd be the leader!" Cortessa gaped. How could a man act like a selfish child? She recoiled. Igear rambled on in a heated way. "But Gendar made me share my hoard! Ever since then he hasn't trusted me. He keeps me around because of my store, though. Without it, this village wouldn't stand a chance!"

Cortessa's lips puckered. "I'll be going now."

Igear eyed her uncertainly. "Yeah, okay. You come back and see me if you want to deal."

Cortessa hurried off, pulling Carth behind her. They came to the gate that led into unsettled territory, where a woman desperately pleaded with a sad-looking man. Cortessa slowed, listening, and Carth followed suit.

"Help him, please!" The woman cried, and turned to scream through the gate. "Hurry, Hendar! Hurry! I can hear it coming!"

The guard looked grim and anxious. "He'll never make it. He's doomed." He growled with frustration. "I told him he was a fool to leave the village!"

The woman glared at him. "He WILL make it." She turned to yell through the gate again. "Run, Hendar! RUN!"

Carth gasped as a man slammed against the gate and began beating it with his fists, his eyes wild with terror. "Open the gate!" the man shouted. "Quickly! There isn't much time!"

The guard shifted unhappily. "I… I can't. The rakghouls are too close!"

The woman looked to the guard, her eyes brimming with tears. "The mutants will kill him if you don't open the gate!" she shrieked.

The guard looked reluctant, but remained firm. "And if I open the gate, they will kill us all!"

The woman beat the guard's chest with her scrawny fists. "No! You can't do this! It isn't fair!" She looked up and spotted Cortessa standing awkwardly to the side. "Please, make him open the gate! Hendar will die if he doesn't! You would understand, wouldn't you? Can you imagine what it would be like to lose him?" She pointed at Carth and Cortessa's mouth screwed up for a moment as she battled between amusement and disgust.

The guard grabbed Cortessa by the shoulders. "No," he told her. "I can't open the gate. Not while the rakghouls are so near."

Cortessa's face was set and determined. "Open the gate. I'll kill the rakghouls for you."

The woman cried out jubilantly, her face shining with her tears. The guard looked stunned. "You would risk your life for a stranger? You are brave, up-worlder." He shook his head. "I'll open the gate for you, but you've got to be quick. In a few seconds I must close and lock it again."

Cortessa rushed through the gate the moment it was open, her vibroblades humming. Carth hesitated for a moment, but the woman shoved him in, her eyes wide with her frenzied panic. The man, Hendar, stood behind Carth, cowering, as Cortessa ran, screeching, towards the nearest rakghoul.

Carth paused to take the monster in. It had clearly been a person – the remains of hair made a small tuft on its slimy and otherwise bald head, and it struck with human-like hands, but a single, large, white claw jutted out from the forefinger. Its face was round and pulled back, as if the person's face had been blurred and bleached, and a pair of huge, black eyes stared unblinkingly. It opened its mouth to roar, and two rows of jagged teeth glinted at them.

Cortessa ducked as a huge claw struck at her head. She skipped to the right and swung downwards, through its left forearm. Green blood burst forth and the mutant screamed, flinging its other arm frantically at her. It sprung with its powerful legs and drove her onto the ground, thrusting its slimy face against her forehead.

Cortessa screamed and Carth fired without hesitation. The monster shrieked and began flopping on the ground, a gaping blaster wound in its side. Cortessa jumped up, wiping green sludge from her cheek, before she drove her blade into its belly.

The mutant screamed once and lay still. Hendar deflated with relief. The gate opened again and Carth sauntered out with a gasping Cortessa in tow. The gate closed behind the three of them, and the woman embraced Hendar tightly, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Hendar grasped Cortessa's hand and shook it. "I can't thank you enough for saving me, up-worlder. If I had anything but these rags on my back, it would be yours. But we have nothing." Cortessa shook her head, smiling.

The woman took Hendar's hand. "I have you, Hendar. That's all I need. Let's go back to the village." The two wandered off together, leaving Cortessa with a grim gatekeeper.

The gatekeeper smiled at her weakly. "Thank you for saving Hendar. You are braver than I, up-worlder." He laughed sadly. "Maybe we Outcasts have lived too long in selfish fear. Perhaps we can learn a lesson from your brave actions." He gave a sad grunt. "But enough of my ramblings. Is there something you need, up-worlder?"

"What's your name?" Cortessa asked.

"I'm Trewin, from the Outcast village. It's my job to guard the gates and see they are locked to protect us from the rakghouls."

"I want to ask you some questions."

Trewin gave a nervous laugh. "I just guard the gates. Gendar is the leader of the village, up-worlder. You should speak to him if you have any questions."

"Okay, then," Cortessa said resignedly. "Goodbye."

Trewin waved. "Goodbye, up-worlder." He opened the gate for her and they stepped through.

Cortessa crouched down and studied the rakghoul's corpse. "Fascinating," she muttered.

Carth looked around. "What?"

"It still looks so human," she muttered, tracing the rakghoul's face. "It's… depressing."

Carth rested a hand on her shoulder. "We should get going."

Reluctantly, she got to her feet, but quickly fell over when there was a distinct crackling before them, and a certain blue-skinned Twi'lek stepped out of the air with a pop.

------

**Author's Notes: **It's a nerda-balooza today on the plooza, and that's about it, loozaz.

**SilverSentinal21 **- Hahaha. Her old self is just starting to kick in, aroused by her nightmares.


	10. Carth's CPR

**Savior Self**

_Taris part 11,374,693,241_

_No, really. Taris part nine._

**Rated PG13**

**Disclaimer: **I am twitching in my chair.

**Savior Self**

Carth caught Cortessa in her startled swoon and held her for a moment as Mission sprinted up to them. All of the blood had rushed from the girl's face up to her headtails, which twitched and throbbed with her agitation. She reached out and grasped their shoulders. Her eyes were wild and her voice breathless as she stammered and spluttered.

"Please, you have to help me! Nobody else is going to help me! Even the Beks won't help me! But I-I just can't leave him there – h-he's my friend! You'll help me won't you?"

Cortessa looked shocked but managed to regain her feet. She slapped Carth's hands away and took Mission's hand instead. "Whoa, slow down, Mission," she said gently. "What's wrong?"

Mission's head was clearly reeling. She didn't calm down, but her hands fluttered wildly by her headtails as if she could cool them down. "It's Zaalbar!" she cried. "He's in trouble! BIG trouble! We have to help him! If we don't they'll sell him into slavery!"

Cortessa gently grasped the girl's shoulders. "Calm down, Mission. Take a deep breath and tell me what happened."

Mission's face turned beet red and she began to squawk. Carth could practically see her head spinning on an invisible axis. Cortessa did the only thing she could do. She slapped her – not hard, but well enough to smack the franticness out of Mission.

The Twi'lek looked faint for a moment, but much calmer, even though her voice was cracked and shaking, and she stammered. She took a deep breath, composed herself, and said, "Me… m-me and Zaalbar were just wandering around here in the Undercity… you know, looking for stuff we could find, just kind of exploring. We do it all the time! Only this time… they were waiting for us."

Carth frowned. "Who?"

She bit her lip. "Gamorrean slave hunters. We didn't even have a chance to run! Big Z threw himself at them and he roared for me to run! I-I… I-I took off! I figured Zaalbar would be right behind me! But there were too many of them – he couldn't get away! They're going to sell him to a slaver – I-I just know it!"

Cortessa nodded. "Look, I'll help you find your friend. But if I do, do you think you could get me into the Vulkar base?"

Mission, desperate to help her friend, agreed without a second thought. "It's a deal! As soon as we get Big Z, I'll show you a way into that Vulkar base. Now, come on – we have to find Zaalbar before they sell him to slavers, or worse."

Carth knew it wouldn't be all that easy. "Do you know where he's being kept?"

Mission fluttered her hands at her headtails again. She realized that Cortessa might slap her again and stopped. "The Gamorreans make their camps in the sewers. I bet that's where we'll find Zaalbar – and that's where I'll show you the secret entrance into the Vulkar compound."

Cortessa nodded. "Good. Let's go."

Mission's face was flushed, but she seemed to have recovered. Cortessa headed in the wrong direction, and Mission asked why.

"Look, I need to scout this place out, in case we need to make a quick escape," Cortessa said, and Mission's eyes grew wide with panic.

"What? B-But we _are_ getting Zaalbar, right?"

"Yes, of course," Cortessa told her warmly. "We'll – wait. What's that?"

All eyes turned to the shapes in the distance.

"Sith," Carth spat.

A trooper walked up to them, glaring at them through his visor. Cortessa squared her shoulders and stared back defiantly, her chin thrust out.

"This is a restricted area. What are you doing down here?" the Sith growled.

Cortessa ground her teeth. "Look, I've got all the proper security papers. Leave me alone."

The Sith instantly backed down, treating her with respect – or at least a trickling of it. "Security papers? Oh… you're one of those trackers the Commander sent down, right? They should have given you an armed escort – it's nasty down here." Carth was amused. This man was underestimating Cortessa. The Sith continued. "We've already lost one patrol… we figure the rakghouls got them. We've had so many encounters with those things we've actually run out of rakghoul serum! Plus we've had several skirmishes with looters from those Lower City gangs. I'm telling you, we should just stay in the Upper City where we're in control!"

Cortessa blanched and flushed with anger before she calmed down. "You said you lost one patrol already?"

The Sith seemed to sober up. "Oh, is that why you're down here? Search and rescue? I didn't think they would send anyone! They were in the southern section of the Undercity when we lost contact." He pointed. Carth glanced at Mission, who was writing this information down in her datapad. He smiled. She would do well. The Sith shook his head. "I would have gone to investigate, buy my orders are to search for those crashed escape pods… even if it means leaving another patrol to die." Carth felt sick. What monsters!

Cortessa handled herself well. "I'll be going now."

The Sith nodded. "Yeah, sure. The Commander won't be too happy if you come back empty, right? Same thing goes for us. Come on, patrol. Let's get back to it. The sooner we get this search done the sooner we can get out of this mutant infested hole. Move out!" He strode past, and one Sith nudged Cortessa suggestively as he ambled by. Carth shot him a glare and the Sith seemed to quail a little.

Cortessa pressed forward, drumming a tattoo on the hilts of her vibroblades. In no time they had come across a pack of rakghouls, feasting on a corpse. She crouched down, pressing against the wall. "Heads up," she hissed, and pulled a grenade out of her pocket.

As Mission stared with awe, Carth scowled. "Where did you get those?" he hissed.

"Your back pocket, doll," she hissed back dryly, and tossed the grenade. Two rakghouls were sent flying and a third slumped to the ground, its head blown clean off. Screaming, Cortessa rushed forward and charged them, cutting through them with her blades before Mission and Carth could even provide cover fire.

She sighed, brushing herself off. "That was fun," she said good-naturedly, and began checking the corpses for supplies.

Mission watched, biting her lip. Carth glanced at her. "You alright, kid?"

She nodded, gasping to calm herself and standing up straight.

Cortessa cried out. Carth rushed to her side. "What? What is it?" he asked urgently. She looked at him, her blue eyes burning.

"I found our serum," she said breathlessly, and handed him a belt half-filled with individual vials, each filled to the brim with a glowing green liquid. Carth looked up at her, his heart warming. He could tell from the look in her eyes that she was going to give it to Zelka, unlike that slime of an assistant had asked of her. She actually cared. He could have kissed her, but decided against it, and tucked the belt gingerly in his pocket.

"You're great, Cortessa," he muttered.

She flushed and got to her feet, fluttering her eyelashes like she always did to disguise feelings of surprise or discomfiture. "I love you, too, doll," she said softly, in that non-committal manner. "Don't get all sappy."

Mission looked from one to the other, raising an eyebrow.

"No, we're not," Cortessa said shortly.

Mission nodded, but didn't look convinced. Carth looked away, nudging a rock aside with his foot.

"Let's go save Zaalbar, then, alright?" Cortessa said to change the subject. "Let's go."

Mission nodded absently, studying Carth avidly. Carth paused to study a corpse more closely, and Cortessa gave him a firm nudge.

"Keep it moving, flyboy."

"'Flyboy?'" Mission asked, tilting her head to one side.

"Republic pilot," Cortessa said, glancing at him. Carth smiled at Mission, who lolled her head thoughtfully.

They walked in silence, and Mission was so distracted she didn't even tell them where the entrances to the sewers were, and in the end they took a wrong turn and came across a group of mercenaries, led by none other than the Mandalorian Cortessa had talked to earlier in the Lower City.

Canderous stopped, blinking once with unmasked surprise. The other mercenaries leered or didn't pay attention at all.

The youngest one out of all of them squealed with fright and held up a blaster, his hand shaking something awful. "D-Don't… don't move! I'm… I'm not afraid to use this blaster if I have to!" he cried.

Canderous cuffed the man upside the head. "Settle down, kid. We've already lost enough men to those damn rakghouls. The last thing we need now is more casualties from a needless firefight." The man was sobered. Canderous looked back to Cortessa. Familiarity struck, but he hid it well. "By the looks of it I'd say you're down here for the same reason we are: to salvage something from those downed Republic escape pods. Let me give you some advice: forget about it. Do yourself a favor and just head back the way you came."

"I need to ask you something," Cortessa said.

Canderous snarled. "This isn't a good place to stand around chatting. The Undercity is crawling with rakghouls. I've already lost half a dozen men to those monsters."

A mercenary yelped. "Canderous, I heard something!"

Canderous rolled his eyes. "Probably just your stomach, kid."

"No! It was over there, in the shadows! It sounded like a rakghoul!"

The slimy, pale creature emerged from the darkness, his face twisted into a hideous smile. Canderous drew his repeater, taking aim. "Looks like we've got company! Get those blasters ready, boys!"

The mercenaries clumsily drew their weapons. Carth and Mission drew theirs as well and decided to help, for what it was worth. Cortessa ran ahead of everyone, stunning them as she cut through the front lines before she was overtaken and knocked backwards.

Carth watched in horror as she bucked and screamed, thrashing beneath a rakghoul's jaws. Blood ran fresh everywhere as her limbs shot into the air helplessly. Carth could see her face, twisted with pain and pale with fear. There was a horrible ripping noise and her vest split open, revealing her chest, which was barely covered by her shredded underwear. She struggled to free herself, beating the monster's face with her fists and trying to crawl backwards, but its weight pressed her down onto the earth as it got a firm grip on her neck with its teeth.

Carth took aim but Canderous got there first, blasting the rakghoul to oblivion. It slumped, dead and heavy, on top of Cortessa's heaving body. Her eyes had rolled back in her head and she thrust her torso upwards, but she was pinned. She gasped and moaned, turning sickly green, as the last of the rakghouls was brought down. Everyone gathered around, staring as she slowly died.

Carth threw himself at her, shoving the rakghoul off fiercely. He seized the supply sack and grabbed a serum vial. "Hold on," he whispered, gathering Cortessa up in his arms. Her thigh had been split wide open by the mutant's claw, and there was barely anything left of her pretty neck. Carth uncorked the vial and screwed it into a syringe. He took a deep breath and administered the serum, and Cortessa sputtered out. The bucking stopped. Her hand went limp.

"No!" Mission cried, tears welling up in her eyes.

Carth ripped off a strip of his shirt again and tied it around her thigh, then did the same to her arm, and her neck. He pressed his fingers to her wrist, and her heartbeat ran strong.

"I think she'll be alright," he breathed, and pressed his fingers to her lips, feeling for her breath. There was none. He swore, looking around. "Anyone else know CPR?"

No one moved. Canderous took a step back after a moment and Carth groaned. He would have to do it himself.

Her mouth was limp and cold and, though he tried to avoid it, he could barely taste some of the blood that had risen to her lips. He forced himself to ignore how odd it felt, and breathed.

Minutes ticked by menacingly. No one moved. Carth continued with his work, becoming frantic. She remained unresponsive and limp, as good as corpse in his hands. Mission was atremble, her headtails flushed and flicking. Suddenly, Cortessa gasped, taking in a large breath.

Finally. Carth cried with joy and instantly set to work with some medpacks, shaking his head at the overwhelming relief he felt. This had been the second time in far too soon that she had nearly died on him. Thank the gods for his military and medical training.

"Are you alright?" he asked, forcing her to face him. Her skin was insipid, but she looked to be in alright shape.

"I think so," she rasped. She paused, frowning. "What happened?"

Mission knelt at her side, grinning an impish grin. "Carth kissed you."

Carth flushed and glowered at the Twi'lek girl. "I did _not_!" he snapped. "She wasn't breathing! I had to do something!"

"It's alright, doll," Cortessa muttered, sitting up and clutching her head. "Oh."

Mission heaved her to her feet and Canderous looked them over and recovered the situation with a well-placed swear word. "Damn!"

All eyes turned to him.

His cheeks turned a darker shade of ash grey and he continued. "I told Davik this salvage mission was a bad idea! His men aren't trained for this kind of thing, and I can't baby sit them all!"

Carth glanced around. One of the mercenaries lay dead. Something cold hit his stomach. Had they been so distracted by Cortessa that they had forgotten about this poor man? Had they ignored him while he lay dying?

Canderous seemed to want to get out of the place quickly. "Okay, boys, we're getting out of here before we lose anyone else. I can't carry all this salvage back by myself!" He glanced at Mission and Carth, and the woozy Cortessa. "You'd be smart to get out of here as well. Even if you can handle the rakghouls, I doubt there's anything worth finding anymore."

"Any survivors?" Cortessa mumbled.

Canderous frowned. "What? Sure, I guess. I don't know. A guy was there – out cold, though. He isn't going to live much longer, I'll tell you that much. Now… come on, boys! Let's move out!" He took off, hoisting a large sack over his shoulder. The mercenaries followed sullenly, their faces set with grim determination.

Carth looked back to Cortessa. "Are you alright?"

Cortessa nodded, but she still looked a little out of it. "I… the Republic escape… him… we… go…."

Carth frowned, exchanging a worried glance with Mission. The Twi'lek bit her lip.

"What are you on about?" Carth asked, and started as Cortessa's legs gave way. Swearing, he grabbed her under her arms and pressed another hand to her hips for support. Her face pressed against his chest and he looked down at her, scowling, as she stared into space, her pupils growing and shrinking as the world came in and out of focus.

Slowly, she reached out and pointed with a shaking hand, and Carth looked to see the downed escape pod. "What!" he shouted. "Go save him?"

Cortessa went slack. Swearing fluently in every language he could think of, he passed the woman off to Mission, hoisting their supply sack over his shoulder. "Watch her," he growled, and marched over the escape pod.

A man stood there, staring blankly down at a puddle of vomit at his feet. Carth listened as the poor guy moaned and groaned, clutching his side at the pain and trembling. Before Carth could ask him anything, however, the most horrific thing happened.

The man suddenly doubled over, retching. Carth stepped back with disgust, and the man sank to his knees, screaming. The noise started out high-pitched, but slowly and surely became gargled and deep, and there was a distinct crunching sound. The man flopped onto the ground, convulsing and writhing. His Republic clothes ripped clean off, and Carth realized with a start that the man's skin was unnaturally pale.

There was a sickening tearing noise and the skin split off him like a husk, revealing a shimmering, slimy, green layer underneath. The man's face twisted and bones crunched, forming into the unmistakable figure of a rakghoul.

The face was last, melting into a sort of inhuman, shapeless blob, and the man's panicked green eyes widened, stretching over his face, as the pupils dilated to take up the entire eye, turning it black and blank. The man gave an almighty lurch and roared.

Carth scrambled back and fired without hesitation. The shots missed and the rakghoul lunged at him, snarling and screeching. It limped awkwardly as it walked, unused to its new legs. Its claws scraped the ground and left small welts in the dirt. Green saliva dripped from its teeth. Carth fired and missed again, and the blaster clicked. It was out of rounds. He swore and watched with horror as the rakghoul advanced, its rank breath suffocating him. Out of nowhere, another charge hit the creature right between the eyes, and it fell, dead.

Carth gasped for breath, his heart fluttering wildly in his throat, his head reeling. He looked back, raising a shaking hand to brush his bangs from his eyes, and saw Mission, bent over with Cortessa's weight, her gun pointed out, her eyes wide and glassy. Her little mouth was hanging open and her brows were twisted with her fright.

Without warning, she began to cry. Carth stumbled to his feet and held the poor girl, gently patting her on the back, and studying Cortessa's limp form with a detached relief. The vision of her skin splitting off of her came far too easily, and it made him feel ill.

He wouldn't have been able to shoot her.

------

**Author's Notes: **Eww, right?

**SilverSentinal21 **- Here's your Mish, love! She gets better soon - right now she's a little upset.

**Amme Moto **- It's good to have you back. I'm afrad the sewers won't be detailed at all - I have little patience for them. I'm sorry.


	11. A Rancor?

**Savior Self**

_The search for Zaalbar continues, and Mission harasses Carth._

_Taris part eleven._

**Rated PG13**

**Disclaimer: **Hahaha. Wouldn't that be neat if I owned Star Wars? HAHAHAHA.

**Savior Self**

The search for Zaalbar was delayed a day, and they took a reluctant Mission back to their apartment. It was difficult to haul an unconscious Cortessa all the way back to the Upper City, but because she was so stunningly beautiful, and because she was dressed in almost nothing, everyone assumed that she was just too drunk and had passed out. Mission pretended to be the ever-perfect slave, allowing Carth to shove her from behind, though he didn't do it too terribly roughly as they walked along.

As the sun set that night, Carth and Mission sat at the round center table, their eyes fixed on each other as they silently sipped some caffa.

"I'm sorry about your Wookiee friend," Carth said at last.

Mission shook her head sadly. "I just hope we get to him in time," she muttered. She decided to change the subject. She looked up at him with wide, curious eyes. "Hey, Carth?"

He smiled. "Yes?"

"You're a pilot for the Republic, right? You've been all over the galaxy I bet, right? So tell me, how would you rate Taris compared to the other worlds you've seen?"

Carth was surprised, and he shifted uncomfortably. "I'll be honest, Mission," he said at last. "Taris would rate pretty low. The prejudice, the rich spoiling themselves while the poor are crushed beneath them – not a pretty picture."

Mission shifted unhappily, desperate to defend her home world. "Yeah, but that's only since the Sith occupation. Before that… well… I guess… it wasn't all that different, really." She seemed to be smashed for a second as she thought about it. "Maybe Taris ain't as great as I thought, you know?"

Carth wanted to make her understand that there were good places out there. "Trust me, Mission. There are a lot of worlds better than Taris." Her face fell, and he quickly threw in a few things to make her feel better. "There are worse, too. But Taris is no place for a kid to live on her own – even a kid who's got a Wookiee to look after her."

Mission's headtails flicked with agitation. Her eyes grew narrow. "Hey, I ain't no kid!" she barked. "And I look out for Zaalbar as much as he looks out for me! Big Z's my friend, not my babysitter! Geez, I come ask you a question and you give me a lecture!"

Carth accidentally snapped on a father-like, scolding tone. "Don't you snap at me, missy! You want a lecture? How's this: only bratty little children fly off the handle because of a simple comment!"

Mission let out a scream of anger, and thrust a fist in his direction. Cortessa stirred on the bed and mumbled something before she faded out. Mission continued her tirade. "I don't have to listen to you, Carth! You ain't my father – but you're sure old enough to be! So keep your lectures inside your withered old head, 'cause I don't need 'em!"

Carth felt his face grow hot with his frustration. He slammed his fist on the table but calmed himself, forcefully remembering that she was a child. He glowered at her. "I sure as hell don't need this, so let's just drop it."

Mission sniffed and looked away, and though she tried to look composed, her headtails were clearly flushed with her excitement.

Cortessa suddenly arched her back, moaning. Carth looked at her as her eyes fluttered open and her fingers became hopelessly entangled in her dark hair. She stared up at the ceiling for a moment, gasping for breath, and finally relaxed. Mission and Carth rose and the Twi'lek touched her arm.

"Hey," she murmured. "How're you feeling?"

Carth felt slightly ignored, but shrugged off the feeling as Cortessa wiped sweat off her brow. "How's you're Wookiee?" she mumbled.

Mission flushed unhappily. "We still have to save him."

Cortessa groaned. "I'm sorry."

The younger brushed away the comment with a flick of her hand. "Don't worry. You passed out. It's amazing that rakghoul didn't decapitate you."

Carth gulped. The thought was unnerving.

"We'll get him in the morning," Cortessa said, glancing out the window. She looked back to Mission. "Where are you going to sleep?"

Mission shrugged. "I'll just take a chair," she said.

"No," Cortessa said, and slowly but surely got to her feet. She wobbled and gasped, dizzied, but found her balance. She motioned for Mission to take the bed. "You can have it."

Mission frowned. "You sure you're feeling alright?" she asked.

Cortessa felt the scars on her neck. She winced. Carth had to admit that it was sad to see her pretty skin marred so. Without warning, he stepped up and felt for her temperature. She stood there resignedly, her eyes coming in and out of focus. She had a fever.

He didn't like this. "I'm taking you to Zelka," he said. "Mission, stay here, guard the apartment. Watch holovids or something. We'll be back."

Mission couldn't resist a sly, snide remark. "Take all the time you need."

Carth glared, urging Cortessa out the door. She stumbled, giggling, and the door slid shut behind them both.

------

The next day was damp and depressing. Mission had never really seen a day like this so early into the year – wet seasons came around winter, and it was the beginning of summer. Her headtails had begun secreting early, and she was horribly embarrassed, for they shone wetly in the bright lights in the apartment. She cleaned them when she could and for the most part just kept the three black bands around them to soak up some of the stuff, but Carth and Cortessa didn't seem to notice.

It was amazing how two people could fawn over each other so and not realize it. Mission wasn't a fool – she had seen people look at each other like that before. Griff and Lena, Tarisian couples, men and cantina dancers, rutting gizka… But the two of them seemed to be so oblivious to it, it was painfully obnoxious.

Cortessa healed up by morning. Apparently the serum had some fraking strong sedatives in it, and resulted in fever and delirium. This much was clear when Cortessa had begun thoroughly kissing a chair – and danced around in almost nothing, singing at the top of her lungs. Carth for the most part had tried to calm her down, forcing her onto the bed and telling her to lay down and relax, but she would always dance out of his grip and resume her activities, and in the end Carth had given up to watch her with amusement.

"We gave Zelka that serum we found," Carth said conversationally. "He's reproduced it in mass quantities now. His assistant tried to bite Cortessa's head off for not turning it into Zax. I'm proud of her."

Cortessa rolled over the table, snickering and snorting.

As night really became deep, Carth and Mission went to sleep, and woke up the next morning to see Cortessa passed out on the table, a holovid playing on her stomach. Carth sighed, and handed her to Mission, who wrinkled her nose with disgust.

"Strip her and stuff her in the 'fresher," he said.

Mission gaped. So not only was he going to force a fourteen-year-old to strip an unknown woman to nothing, but he himself wasn't going to indulge in his greatest fantasies and do it instead? She shook her head. "No way!" she cried.

He rolled his eyes. "Just do it. It's not like you can't relate."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're female, aren't you?"

She spluttered. "What do you know about Twi'lek anatomy?"

"Just do it."

Her headtails had begun to throb. She calmed herself and felt the blood drain from them. Growling and muttering angrily, she did as she was told, but wasn't going to be modest about it. She began stripping Cortessa right there in front of him.

Startled, his face bright red, he stared determinedly out the window, but she wondered as she dragged Cortessa across the floor if he was watching them in the window reflection.

Cortessa woke up in the 'fresher and screamed, flustered. Mission stared back blankly.

"You finished yet?" she asked at last.

"Did you – did he – what?" Cortessa gasped.

Mission rolled her eyes. "Don't worry. He didn't touch you."

Cortessa looked relieved. "Alright. Just… get me some clothes, please?" she asked softly.

Mission snarled. She hated being ordered around. She grabbed the woman some clothes and tossed them to her. "When you're finished, it's my turn," she growled.

Cortessa hurriedly dressed and Mission hopped into the 'fresher. They chatted as Cortessa tied her hair back in a tight braid, her eyes fixed on her reflection.

Mission peaked over the top of the 'fresher. "You're actually really pretty, you know. If you'd just let your hair down once and a while."

Cortessa glowered as two stubborn strands fell into her icy eyes. "No, I'm not. I look like a man," she said.

"That's not true," Mission said. It was true – Cortessa, though her face was strong and straight and square, was lovely. Her lips were full and thick, and her eyes were stunning. She was wolfish and firm but fair, and it all just added up in a rather entrancing way.

Cortessa tilted her head to one side, studying herself. "Should I really let my hair down?"

"Not today," Mission replied, stepping out and pulling on her head brace. "We're going into the Undercity today." She slipped on her headtail bands. "And the sewers. You don't want sewage in your hair, do you?"

Cortessa smiled at her as she pulled on her pants. "I guess not," she said. There was a firm rap on the door.

"Are you quite finished?" Carth snapped on the other side.

"We got a naked teenage Twi'lek in here and a half-dressed space wench," Cortessa replied loudly, and kicked the door. "So shut up and shave or something."

There was silence on the other side, minus Carth's unhappy grumbling.

"I can't shave," Mission heard him growl. "You're taking up the bathroom again."

Swift as light, Cortessa opened the door and chucked a hairbrush at the back of his head.

------

It was hard enough with one woman, Carth had decided. But two – one of which was a sporadic and emotional Twi'lek that currently hated his guts – was two too many. As the two girls walked ahead of him, bound at the ankle and wrist, a few people gave him quizzical stares. It was one thing to have a Twi'lek slave, but for a man to have two lovely whores walking with him in the middle of the day was a different thing altogether. They were going to have to think up a new identity if they were going to pass through undetected.

The guard shouted and threw himself against the wall as Carth and Cortessa walked by.

"What, did you give birth?" the man in silver cried, and slammed the elevator, forcing it to open. "Stay the hell away from me!"

Mission giggled hysterically as the door shut. Cortessa turned her back to both of them and pulled off her tight-fitting shirt to replace it with her normal one. While Carth looked away dutifully, Mission watched with curiosity.

By the time they reached the Undercity, the two women had gradually changed back to normal dress. The guard let them pass, not even bothering to look at them twice, and they made their way into the sewers.

"That's an hour wasted," Carth said as they dropped down the last rungs to land with a clang on the sewer ramp. "Let's get moving."

"Hey… Carth?" Cortessa asked.

Carth looked back. "Yes? What's on your mind?"

"I want to talk with you."

Mission wisely chose to become absorbed with some fungus growing on the wall.

Carth folded his arms. He knew where their conversations led already, and she had been very abrupt with him lately. "Oh, so you want to argue some more, is that it?" he said coldly.

Her smile made his throat feel odd. She rested her hands on her hips, raising her eyebrows. "I'm always up for a good fight," she said.

He laughed and she laughed with him. He was amazed. He hadn't met anyone in a long time that could make him feel so twisted. "Can't say I've met a woman quite like you before. You're really something," he said. She was obviously flattered, smiling at him.

"You're not so bad yourself," she told him, and her voice had gone strangely husky.

Carth shook his head. "But I just don't trust easily, and for good reasons… which are my own."

She stepped up and looked him in the eye. He could feel her breath on his face. Her hand was pressed on his chest. She didn't mean to be intimate – he could tell from the harshness in her eyes. She wanted to help. He groaned.

"Ah, damn it. I suppose I won't get any rest until I talk, will I?" he whined. His reply was a grin. He sighed. "You want to know why I don't trust anyone? Fine. Here goes."

Mission sat on the railing of the sewer ramp, watching with unmasked interest. Carth felt uncomfortable with an audience, but he spoke anyway.

"Five years ago, the Jedi had just finished the war with the Mandalorians. Revan and Malak were heroes. I was damn proud to have served in their fleet. It was completely unexpected when they turned on us, invading the Republic while it was still weak. Nobody knew what to thing, least of all me." Cortessa's eyes were soft and he ignored her, plunging on. "Our heroes had become brutal, conquering Sith… and we were all but helpless before them. Think about it… if you can't even trust the best of the Jedi, who can you trust?"

The look on her face was unbearable. Her expression was moving, as if she truly felt his pain. "I suppose you can't," she murmured. "That must have been hard to take."

Words slithered past his lips before he could stop them. "I –" _HALT! REWIND. _He shook his head. "It wasn't even that. There were others: good, solid men. Trusted men, who turned on us as well, and joined their cause." His anger welled up in his throat and it rode in waves, turning his voice harsh. "Malak and Revan and the Sith deserve to die for what they've done… but the ones who fled the Republic and joined them are even worse. The dark side has nothing to do with why they joined with the Sith. They deserve _no mercy_!"

Cortessa's eyes grew wide with shock. Her voice was so quiet Mission had to lean forward to hear. "I haven't joined the Sith, Carth."

Carth struggled for a moment, battling between his guilt and his common sense. He sighed resignedly. "I know… I… I should apologize to you. I've become so accustomed to expecting the worst from others and you've done nothing to deserve that. It's just…" He bit his lip. _Slick words and loose lips, Onasi_. "Never mind. Let's just continue with what we were doing. I'd rather not talk about it."

Cortessa frowned. "But I do," she said quietly.

He ignored her and started down the hallway. Accidentally, he set off a mine up ahead, but recovered quickly enough. Cortessa shoved him against the wall.

"You idiot!" she snapped, and he smiled back silently. She glared, her cheeks and lips becoming flushed. "I'm leading now, you got it?"

She was actually cute when she was mad. Carth grinned. "Sure, beautiful. Sure."

Mission opened a door up ahead. "This is the entrance to the Vulkar base," she said, motioning towards the shining force field. "When we find Zaalbar, I'll help you past it."

They continued on. It didn't take much time to find Zaalbar, but the Gamorreans nearly overtook them. Luckily Cortessa's blind battle rage saw them through, and Mission's impeccable security skills got the door open.

She considered the lock out loud. "Hmm… look at this. This is one of those old-style manual locks. No computer codes or nothing! The sewers is the only place you'll see one of these on Taris." She looked back at them. "I can't use conventional security spikes on these old locks, but don't worry. I've come across them before. I've rigged up a little device that should do the trick." With a haughty toss of her head, she got to work, flushing with pleasure when Cortessa said, "Clever." The door whooshed open.

Carth cried out as a huge ball of fur engulfed Mission tightly, and the room echoed with Zaalbar's jubilant roars. He caught some garbled Wookiee-talk (he forgot the appropriate name, because he hadn't really taken the time to learn the language). The Wookiee was glad to see Mission, but felt a little suspicious about her companions.

Mission grinned, pointing at Carth. "That's Carth," she said. Zaalbar studied Carth closely, his hot breath blasting into his face. Carth blanched and shut his eyes, feeling his stomach churn, and Mission quickly pulled the Wookiee back. "He's okay. If it weren't for these two, I never could have gotten you out!"

Zaalbar nodded his approval, stepping back. He turned his dark eyes to Cortessa now. "And who are you?" he growled.

Cortessa smiled and bowed to the Wookiee before, much to Carth's utter amazement, began speaking in a low voice, growling and roaring in Wookiee-speak. Carth literally fell over, smacking his head against the hard metal walls of the sewers.

Mission stared at him, raising an eyebrow. She, too, looked surprised, but hadn't reacted as badly as he had.

He had a lot to learn about Cortessa. He hadn't even realized it, but he did.

Zaalbar, too, looked shocked. He apparently voiced this amazement, because Cortessa flushed with pleasure. But then her expression turned to mortified amazement.

Mission gasped, pressing her hands to her headtails. "A lifedebt?" she cried. "Are you sure about that, Big Z? Think about it carefully! You'd better be sure about this!"

Cortessa looked faint. Carth rushed to hold her up. The last thing he wanted was for her to get another blow to the noggin. Zaalbar mumbled and roared softly, his nose flushing.

Mission turned to Cortessa and grabbed her shoulders, her eyes wide with the intensity and importance of this moment. "Big Z's swearing a Wookiee lifedebt to you! Wow – this is so major! Do you realize what this means?"

Cortessa nodded. "It's…" She couldn't finish her sentence. For Carth's sake, Mission explained.

"A lifedebt is the most solemn vow a Wookiee can make! It means he'll stay by you for the rest of your life – wherever you go, whatever you do, Zaalbar will be with you."

Cortessa leaned against Carth. Her breath was gone.

Zaalbar pressed a furry paw to his forehead in a salute, roaring earnestly.

Cortessa finally came to. "I'm honored," she murmured. "I… thank you."

Mission pushed forward. "I guess this means you're stuck with me, too. Wherever Big Z goes, I'm going. I almost lost him once – it's not going to happen again."

Cortessa's face broke out in a genuine grin. Carth got the feeling she had a soft spot for the girl. "Glad you have you aboard, Mission," Cortessa said, and they shook hands.

Mission's smile turned impish. "So I guess I still owe you one secret path into the Vulkar base. That was the deal, wasn't it? Don't worry – I can get you through that scum den!"

Cortessa nodded. "Good. The sooner we get there, the better." She paused. "Once you get me inside, you go back, okay? Keep out of trouble."

Mission glared. "I better come with you," she said forcefully. "I know all about that place. I've been there loads of times. I just hope the rancor monster isn't still there."

Cortessa would have dropped to the floor if Carth hadn't been holding her. "Rancor?" she spluttered. "Are you serious?"

Mission flushed a little. "There used to be a rancor monster that made its nest in that part of the sewers," she mumbled. "Pretty much eats anything it can get its claws on. That thing is _huge_! Luckily, rancors aren't too bright. I was able to sneak past it before, so I'm sure we'll figure something out. That is…" Here her voice grew sly and tricky, "unless you want to change your mind…?"

Cortessa's resolve hardened. "That's not really an option," she snapped. "Let's go."

Mission nodded. "Okay then," she said. "Off we go!"

------

**Author's Notes: **Hahaha. I had fun with this one.

**SilverSentinal21 **- Thank you very much. c",) Your support means a lot to me. I'm afraid I will avoid reading more of your excellent story until I get at least half-way through the KOTOR II game, which will take a while. I'm stuck on Telos and haven't a clue as to where anything is.

**lOngshotOR **- I liked how Cortessa slapped her too. XD

**FaintlyAlarming **- Will do. Nice to see a new face.


	12. Ada and the Vulkars

**Savior Self **

_Taris part eleven, now, is it? I'm so freaking confused. I've stopped caring. From this point on, all Taris labels may be discredited. Ugh. _

**Rated PG13 **

**Disclaimer: **We don't need no stinkin' disclaimers.

**Savior Self **

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The force field gave way with a reluctant flicker. Mission glanced back at Cortessa with a smug smile, eyebrows raised.

"Sure, kid, you've got stuff," Cortessa mumbled, and shoved Mission through the entranceway. Zaalbar made a small noise between amusement and disapproval, so Cortessa stopped.

They sliced through some Gamorreans and rakghouls, and finally came to a steep decline. Mission frowned.

"Rancor straight ahead," she murmured, and Cortessa continued, her heart fluttering in her throat. Her shoulders were tense. No one was breathing loudly. Suddenly something tripped her and she went sprawling, landing on the ground face-first. It wasn't the most graceful descent.

Carth laughed openly. She jumped to her feet and drew her blade, pointing it in his direction. "YOU!" she roared, feeling her face flush with anger.

Mission blanched. "_Shh_!" she hissed desperately.

Cortessa snarled. Carth smiled weakly. "Wasn't me," he said. He pointed.

Cortessa turned around. A severed arm lay clutching a sack tightly. Unaffected by the grotesqueness of it, she dug around in the sack.

"Hmm," she said, tossing a vial into the air and catching it. She read the datapad. "Turns out we have a way to get rid of this rancor."

"What do you have in mind?" Carth asked slowly, suspiciously.

She hated that suspicion. She shot him the meanest glower she could muster. "I'm gonna throw you to the rancor, Carth, and I'm gonna enjoy watching you die!" she snapped harshly.

Carth frowned. "Point taken," he muttered.

She switched on her stealth and snuck out to the rancor's nest. It was more frightening than she could have imagined. The place stank of death and feces. The air was thick and oppressing. The walk was long and silent, and every second made her feel more and more tense, and her mine began to spin with the pressure. She crept over to a corpse pile and grabbed a skull. Carth gasped in the doorway as two bones clinked together.

The rancor – a huge, quivering mass of flesh and muscle in the corner – didn't even stir. Cortessa continued, slowly slipping a grenade between the skull's teeth. Quickly, she popped the cap off of the synthesized odor and dumped it all over the skull before she bolted for it, stumbling blindly for the door. She threw herself into Carth's arms and covered her ears. Mission screamed.

The rancor had eaten the skull. It roared, and the noise was so loud the walls shook. The monster thrashed about madly, twisting and writhing, before it fell over, dead. Blood ran exceedingly from its open mouth, pooling on the floor. Its dead body retched once. Mission blanched and seemed to be struggling with her lunch.

Guards sprinted from behind a door nearby to see what the noise was about. One screamed and fainted. The rest spotted Zaalbar's bulk and began firing. Carth picked them off at a distance with Mission, and for once Cortessa did nothing. Once the fight was over, they made their way through the door and into the Vulkar base.

The base was rather quiet. Cortessa supposed most the Vulkars were out in runs, or dead on the streets because of the war. Either way, it was to her benefit – there was little opposition as she cut her way through the base in search for Bastila.

They arrived at the kitchens and slew whoever dared approach them. A pale, shaking, raven-haired woman cowered in the corner, her eyes wide with fear. Cortessa wiped her blades clean on her pants and turned to face her.

The poor wench looked as if she had been dragged through hell and back. Cortessa knelt before her, sheathing her blades and studying this woman. The woman screamed, recoiling quickly as if she had been scalded.

"Please don't hurt me!" she cried desperately, tears pouring down her cheeks. "I just serve the food here! That's all! I'm not like these others – I'm not even a Black Vulkar! Please don't kill me!"

Cortessa's heart softened. She touched the girl's shoulder and the girl screamed, wincing as she waited for the death blow. She couldn't have been more than seventeen. Her face was still round and full and her body was just barely reaching its peak. Cortessa felt sympathy. "What's your name?" she asked gently.

The girl stared at her for a moment and stammered before she found her resolve. "My name is Ada," she said. She seemed to be struggling and her words came out jerky as she battled with her terror and tears. "My father owed Davik some money, but he couldn't pay." She took a deep breath. "Davik killed my father and sold me into slavery here at the Vulkar compound to pay off the debt."

Cortessa gasped. How awful! But she knew she had to do business first, but she swore to let this girl go free. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you," she said warmly. "I just want to ask you a few questions."

Ada's eyes grew wide and she bit her lip. "But I don't know anything!" she cried desperately in her panic. "I'm just a prisoner here – a slave! The Vulkars don't tell me anything, they treat me like dirt, they beat me if I screw up their orders!"

Carth knelt beside Cortessa and gently grasped Ada's shoulder, his eyes firm but warm. "You may know more than you think, miss," he said. "Help us and we'll help you, okay?"

He seemed to calm her down. Her head stopped reeling and she took a deep breath. "Well… alright," she said. "I still don't know how much help I can be. But I sure hope you get rid of all the Vulkars. I _hate_ them!"

Cortessa nodded. "We're looking for another prisoner. A woman named Bastila."

Ada's eyes grew wide again and recognition struck her features. "Is she that Republic soldier?" she gasped. "I-I heard one of those Vulkars mention her, but she's not here. He said Brejik didn't trust his men around her." Her voice grew bitter and sad. "I guess she's too important to be a slave here in the kitchens getting pawed and groped and kicked and spit on like me. Brejik must have taken her somewhere safe." Her lip quivered.

Cortessa brushed her hair out of her eyes. "If I let you go can you find your way out of here?" she asked.

Ada looked up at her, her eyes shining with relief. "Now that you've killed the guards who were supposed to watch me I think I could find my way out of here," she said desperately.

Cortessa grinned. "Alright then, hurry. Run out of here."

Ada screamed with joy. "I'm free to go? You're not going to kill me?" She hugged Cortessa tightly, sobbing. "I don't know how I can ever repay you! Thank you! Thank you! I… I…" She blinked. "I have to get out of here before any of the Vulkars see me." She jumped to her feet and bolted, giggling as she ran.

Carth grinned at Cortessa. "That was a good thing you did," he told her.

She rolled her eyes. "As if I would have done anything else to her," she muttered unhappily, and got to her feet. Carth frowned, watching her as she rose.

"Hey, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she spat back. She didn't really feel like talking to him – not after how he'd been treating her. He sensed this and fell into a wounded silence.

Mission frowned. "You guys aren't going to get into another fight again, are you?" she asked reluctantly.

Zaalbar looked at them. "What?" he said. "Are the humans fighting?"

Mission sighed. "I dunno, Big Z. They never talk about it. They just get mad."

"Is that unusual for humans?" Zaalbar asked.

Mission tilted her head to one side. "I guess. They either really hate each other or really like each other." She ignored their mortified cries and continued. "Either way, it's getting on my nerves. You'll see in time, Big Z. It doesn't take long for them to snap."

Cortessa glowered and continued on. She picked the lock on a nearby door to reveal a startled-looking Twi'lek. Mission cried out as a blaster shot narrowly missed her headtail. She ducked and Cortessa charged, slashing his chest with her vibroblade. The Twi'lek cried out, clutching his chest, and sank to his knees. Blood ran fresh and hot between his fingers.

Mission stared, horribly entranced.

"I surrender!" the Twi'lek gasped. "I surrender! Please don't kill me! I'm not like these others! I'm not like Brejik and his new Vulkars!"

Cortessa frowned, considering this Twi'lek. "What are you on about?" she said, not bothering to keep the contempt out of her voice. "You're a Vulkar, aren't you?"

The Twi'lek nodded, desperate to appease her and get her into letting him leave. "I'm a Vulkar," he said. "But I was here long before Brejik took over. I was a Vulkar back when it meant something. Back when we had honor." His voice was bitter. "Then Brejik and his followers took over and turned our gang into a bunch of violent thugs and bloodthirsty punks. Now they treat all us original Vulkars like second-class citizens. Take me, for example. I used to be one of the highest ranking Vulkars in the gang. Now I'm stuck on guard duty here in the back, all thanks to Brejik!"

Cortessa didn't understand. "If you hate Brejik so much, why don't you leave?"

The Twi'lek shrugged, glancing at Mission once and raking her with an approving gaze. She glowered back at him and folded her arms protectively. The Twi'lek sighed and spoke again. "I've been trying to work up the courage to leave, but it's not that easy. Brejik's followers will try to hunt down anyone who leaves the Vulkar gang. He says he won't let traitors live." He forced an abrupt, angry laugh. "Ha! Brejik and his followers are the real traitors! They turned on Gadon and now they slaughter the Beks in the streets… and anyone else they happen to run across. Brejik knows anyone with character will never willingly follow a leader like him, so he uses brutality and violence to stay in power."

Cortessa was getting bored. "Look, I need some information, if you'd please."

The Twi'lek grinned. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you want to know. It's not like I owe that scum lord Brejik anything."

Cortessa tossed her head. "Where can I find the prototype accelerator?"

The Twi'lek blinked. "Right – that gadget Brejik stole from the Beks. He's got the accelerator in the basement garage. The only way down is by using the security elevator in the back of the base. By the security elevator is protected by auto-targeting laser cannons. You'll be vaporized before you ever get near it, unless you get your hands on a pass card."

Cortessa's curiosity was piqued. "Where can I get a pass card?"

The Twi'lek rolled his shoulders. "If I had one myself, I'd give it to you. But Brejik only gives them to his lieutenants. You'd have to get a pass card from one of them, but I doubt they'd just hand it over to you."

She gave her head a thoughtful twitch. "I want to ask you something else," she said.

He nodded. "Sure."

"I'm looking for a prisoner. A woman named Bastila."

Recognition flittered over the Twi'lek's face, but it was quickly erased by wry sarcasm. "Yeah, right. Brejik would just leave a trophy like that in here with this scum." He shook his head. "He's got her stashed away somewhere safe, I'd guess. Somewhere outside this base."

Cortessa frowned and exchanged glances with Carth. Bad news. She sighed. "Alright, fine. Get out of here, you. I'm going to let you live."

The Twi'lek bolted without a second thought, leaving Cortessa there with a rising problem. "Let's go get that pass card," she said. "But hold on. I want to try and hack the system." She approached a consol nearby and hacked in. She knew she was shaking because the commands were hard to get in, but she finally managed to get it right.

When she finished, she had shut down all security doors, and had found away to overloud a power conduit in the rec. room, killing the majority of Vulkars inside. Knowing at least one remained, she drew her vibroblades and stepped inside. Sure enough, one lone Vulkar remained, and tried to attack her, but with a smooth slice upwards, she drove her blade through his heart.

Carth shifted uneasily behind her. "It's unnerving how you fight like that," he said.

She ignored him, rooting around in the Vulkar's remains. When she finished, she flashed him the pass card she had unearthed.

"Let's go get that accelerator so we can win that swoop race and save Bastila," she said.

Mission rolled her eyes. "You make it sound so easy."

Cortessa rested her hands on her hips. "Would you rather I make it sound impossible?"

"Would you rather I slap you across the face?" Mission countered.

The sheer ridiculousness of it made Cortessa break out in laughter. Zaalbar sighed, shaking his shaggy head, and Carth grinned absently. Mission struggled for a moment before she, too, began to laugh. They hung on each other, giggling insanely for several minutes, before they calmed down.

"Let's get moving," Cortessa gasped at last, wiping a tear from her eye. "We still have a lot to do."

------

**Author's Notes: **Boom! Oh, and my current assessment for KOTOR II: Not as deep as KOTOR I, far more confusing, a lot more stressful, and not as fun. Still, though, it's an okay game. Atton's character is interesting. I've been playing the game a lot, trying to get into it. I CANNOT get influence with Kreia. It's like she has a pair of breeding gizka up her skirt.

**FaintlyAlarming **- How're you? XD

**SilverSentinal21 - **I'm sorry that someone harrassed you about your religion. I imagine it must be pretty hard to take.

**Amme Moto **- Getting used to Telos. MANAAN SUCKS. Oh my god... I hated it... I ran around in circles for days before I could find the Republic Embassy. And Sunry's murder trial... UGH.


	13. Let's Swoop

**Savior Self **

_Another Carth/Revan row… oh no! Oh, and other stuff. _

_Taris part TEN, or sommat._

**Rated PG13 **

**Disclaimer: **It's a system: I do not own. I do not earn. You do not sue. Get it?

**Savior Self **

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The descent to the garage was silent. Carth and Cortessa had been forced into the middle together by Mission and Zaalbar, who insisted taking the corners. The kept their eyes fixed on the door, rather than endure each other's attention.

The door opened. Cortessa stepped through and silently slew all the Vulkars that rose to stop them. She wiped the blade on her pants solemnly and stared at Carth for a while.

"What?" he finally said desperately, unable to take her silence any longer. "What did I do?"

"We didn't really finish our conversation last time," she told him.

Carth frowned. Why wouldn't the woman give him any air? "I thought I said I don't want to talk about it anymore!" he said defensively.

Cortessa smiled charmingly. "Wouldn't you feel better if you discussed it?"

Carth lost his temper for a moment. "Listen, sister – just because we're working together does not mean you get to badger me with constant questions!" he barked.

Zaalbar growled softly, reminding Carth of his place.

Cortessa raised an eyebrow and laughed. "You're damn right it does."

Carth fumed. "Blast it, if you aren't the most frustrating woman to talk to! Isn't there someone else you can harass for a little while?"

She played with her hair absently. "What exactly is it about me that frustrates you?" she asked craftily.

He laughed. He knew that trick. He knew it all too well. "Oh, no, I'm not falling for that one," he said. "I wasn't born yesterday, you know."

She grinned saucily. "Oh, really? It's hard to tell."

Mission giggled hysterically and Zaalbar pressed a hand to her shoulder to shut her up.

Carth sputtered. "I… you… I…" He struggled for a moment, and finally gave up with a sigh. "Okay. I give up. You win." He shook his head. "Look, I suppose I… could use someone to talk to. I'm just not used to it. And I don't know why you're so interested." He thought he might know – he hoped he was right – but he knew that expressing that would be inappropriate for the moment. "I'll try. Here goes. When I think of all the men who have betrayed us, the one that stands out above them all is the one I respected the most: Saul."

Something flickered behind Cortessa's eyes. "That name sounds familiar," she said.

Carth was angry. _Familiar_? _That was it_? "With good reason!" he barked. "Saul Karath is the commander of the entire Sith fleet! He's half the reason Malak has done so well in the war!" The other half was well-known. Revan. Revan had been Malak's genius. He had picked up some things from her, apparently, before she had died. "Saul was my commanding officer back when the Mandalorian Wars first began. He taught me everything about being a soldier… and I looked up to him." He sighed sadly and started when he felt her warm hand against his chest. He fixed his eyes on hers and continued. "Saul approached me before he left. He talked to me about how the Republic was on the losing side… and how I should start thinking of my survival." Cortessa gasped. Now it was painfully clear what Saul had meant. He realized that he sounded clueless, and made up for it. "I know now that he was trying to recruit me into the Sith, but I couldn't have conceived of it back then. I argued with him and he got angry and he left. I never saw him again."

Cortessa frowned. "You didn't think he would betray the Republic?"

Carth shook his head sadly. "Saul was my mentor… he led us to so many victories against the Mandalorians… even when things looked to be at their worst… I just… I couldn't conceive of it. He… he couldn't be serious! I was wrong, of course… h-he not only left us for the Sith he… he gave them the codes to bypass our scanners!" He bit back bile as horrible, raw memories flooded back. He closed his eyes, trying to fight back nausea. "I remember waking up as the first of the Sith bombers snuck past our defenses and began destroying half of our docked ships. I knew right then what had happened." He shook his head, feeling ill. "I could have stopped him… I could have stopped it all…"

Cortessa touched his cheek, forcing him to look at her, and he recoiled.

"You blame yourself for trusting a friend?" she asked him softly.

He looked away, unable to bear the look in her eyes. "I blame Saul, not myself," he muttered. "I was… I was stupid and ignored the danger. He nearly destroyed us all." He stood there, weak and defenseless, and he realized this with a start. He sealed himself up, and from the look on her face she could tell he looked glassy and empty again. Good. He let his anger flow through as always. "I've fought Saul for years now, and if I ever catch up to him, he will regret for what he's done. He will _regret_ it."

Cortessa had clearly given up trying to reason with him now that he had sealed up. She said emotionlessly, "I would have done the same thing in your shoes."

Carth was stunned. She had purposefully made an unimportant, empty comment, leaving him hanging. To keep her from becoming totally indifferent he blurted, "Well there's more the story, I guess. But I don't want to talk about it now, let's go."

Mission eyed him unhappily and Zaalbar was sobered. Carth felt guilty for upsetting them so, but Cortessa acted as if nothing had happened. She wound around the Vulkar base and came to a final room, where two Twi'leks stood, their arms entangled as they discussed plans softly.

The male looked up, eyes flashing. "Ah," he said. "It looks like we have visitors – lackeys conned by Gadon Thek into trying to steal Brejik's swoop engine accelerator, I bet!"

Mission was growling quietly in the back of her throat. Carth blurted out, "You're talking like Brejik didn't steal that engine himself to begin with!"

The Twi'lek laughed. "Well, I didn't go through all the trouble of acquiring this prototype just so you could steal it back for that old fool!"

The female Twi'lek on his arm stroked one headtail absently, eying Carth with interest. Her voice was low and seductive. "Would you like me to dispose of these Bek spies, Kandon?" she cooed.

The male Twi'lek – Kandon – rolled his shoulders. "No – hold on a second." He looked Cortessa over carefully. "I see you aren't wearing the Hidden Bek colors, so I'm guessing you aren't part of that feeble old man's gang. You must be a freelance mercenary."

Cortessa's temper was at its end. "Shut up and hand over that accelerator, you infertile gizka!"

Carth rolled his eyes and shook his head, but he rested a hand on his blaster patiently.

Kandon grinned a wolfish grin. "Instead of stealing the prototype for the Beks, why don't' you come work for us? The Black Vulkars could use someone like you."

Cortessa drew her vibroblades and rubbed them together. This stimulated the Twi'lek bodyguard and her eyes began to flash. "Forget it," Cortessa barked. "I'm no fool. Hand over the accelerator. I'm warning you."

"You'd better listen to her," Mission said, eyes wide. "You haven't seen her fight!"

Carth was amused by Mission's backup. He grinned at her.

Kandon didn't take the hint. "Be smart!" he said. "Gadon Thek is old news! He's a blind fool in more ways than one! Brejik is a visionary – soon he'll control the entire Lower City! Don't shackle yourself to a losing team!"

A horrible smile had spread over Cortessa's face. Carth felt sick. It was time. "You're right," she said, licking her finger and pulling it over the flat of her vibroblade. "How about I kill you instead?"

Kandon noticeably twitched with irritation. Blood had flowed to his headtails, turning them dark green. He sighed. "I can see there's not much chance of convincing you to work for us after all. Most unfortunate."

His bodyguard was shifting anxiously. Her voice was high-pitched with her eagerness. "Now can I kill them, Kandon?"

Kandon released her arm. "Yes, darling," he said. "Kill them. Kill them all."

Screaming, Cortessa and the bodyguard threw themselves at each other. Carth fumbled with his blaster, stunned by the sheer feral rage that flowed between the women. Cortessa grabbed her headtail and slammed the Twi'lek against the wall before she drove a firm kick into the small of her back. The Twi'lek screamed, batting her fists against the wall before she turned around and dug her claws into Cortessa's face.

The two, shrieking and screaming, slammed each other face-first into the table several times before Cortessa's strength won out and she kneed the girl in the stomach. The Twi'lek doubled over, baring her neck, and Cortessa drew her vibroblades to do what she had to do.

Kandon was left shaking and pale, eyes wide. He was speaking, but his voice was hushed and coming out so quickly Carth could only catch his garbled swear words and pleads for his life.

Cortessa drove the hilt of her vibroblades into his head, and he slumped, unconscious, on the floor. She kicked him ruthlessly aside and grabbed the accelerator off of the shelf.

Mission looked ill. Zaalbar pressed his paws to his mouth, mumbling to himself.

Cortessa was a beaming, bloody mess. She grinned brightly at them. "Let's get this up to Gadon and save Bastila, okay?" she said.

Mission sprinted out the door and could be heard retching moments later.

Cortessa bit her lip and looked at Carth for guidance. He could think of nothing to say.

------

When they emerged, it was clear that night had come, for the sun had sunk deep beneath the horizon. Cortessa checked the time. It was two in the morning. Suddenly her exhilaration sputtered out, and she felt exhausted. Zaalbar carried Mission, who was now asleep, her face buried in the Wookiee's fur.

As they headed back the Bek base to deliver the accelerator before going to bed, Cortessa stumbled woozily. She was so tired… it was almost unbearable. Carth, too, seemed to be dragging, but that was normal – he carried so much guilt all of the time. Cortessa wanted to help him, but he wouldn't let her. It was as if he was afraid that if he told the story, it would happen all over again.

The Bek base was closed. The guard remained, staring at them in a vulture-like way as they entered. Inside, no one was moving. Everyone lay asleep or had gone home. Zaerdra stood at Gadon's desk, sucking on her finger, humming to herself.

"Could you wake Gadon for us?" Cortessa asked. "We have his accelerator."

Zaerdra studied her. "If I'm your whore you gotta pay me," she said simply.

Growling at the sheer ludicrousness of it, Cortessa slammed a credit on the desk. "Now fetch him," she hissed.

Zaerdra got to her feet and left, returning later with a sleepy, pajama-clad Gadon Thek. He rubbed his eyes and listened as his bodyguard whispered in his ear. He looked around before faced Cortessa.

"You've returned!" he said. "Do you have the prototype swoop engine accelerator with you?"

Cortessa rolled her eyes and Zaalbar handed her the accelerator. She weighed it in her hand, realizing that it was quite heavy. "I have the accelerator right here," she said.

Gadon was delighted. "I was beginning to wonder if you would make it!" he said. "The race is tomorrow, and my mechanics need time to install the prototype into the swoop engine of our bike."

Cortessa leaned forward, pressing her palms on his desk. "Okay, I lived up to my end of the deal. You better come through."

Gadon laughed. "Don't worry, I'm a man of my word," he said. "I promised you could ride in the swoop race under the Hidden Bek banner, and I'm still going to let you do that. And I'm even going to go one better – I'm going to let you ride the swoop bike with the prototype accelerator installed on it. Without it, you won't stand a chance."

Cortessa ground her teeth.

Zaerdra cried out in horror. "Gadon! You can't be serious! We need one of our best riders on that bike! We can't let some rookie take the prototype engine into the race!"

Cortessa nodded. "Why are you doing this, Gadon?" she asked.

Gadon grinned. "I have to be honest with you – there's a reason I'm letting you take the prototype engine. The accelerator isn't stable; there's a good chance it could explode during the race." Carth blanched beside her. "I can't ask one of my own riders to take the risk – they'll be running unmodified swoops in the race. You'll be the only one using the prototype. If you can complete the track before the accelerator overheats then you'll win for the Beks. If you die, then one of my other riders could still come through for me."

Cortessa ground her teeth again and horrible sarcasm slipped through her teeth. Her voice was tight and strained with her nausea. "Sounds like you've got all your bases covered."

Mission was bawling. Zaalbar was struggling to remain silent.

Gadon didn't really seem to catch her scathing disgust. "You don't get to be leader of a swoop gang if you don't know how to work all the angles."

Cortessa took a deep breath. "Okay," she said. "I'm ready."

"_No_!" Carth cried. She felt a firm hand on her shoulder, squeezing hard.

"What the hell, Onasi?" she barked, swatting his hand away.

"I can't send you to die out there!" he said desperately. "I should go – I'm the pilot, remember? I can handle the bike better and it won't be so bad if I –"

"Shut up and stand by the Wookiee," she said sharply, indifferently, though inside she was deeply touched by his offer. Dejectedly, Carth did as he was told. She watched him for a moment, struggling with herself. Finally she regained control and looked back to the Bek leader.

Gadon was smiling when he began speaking. "You can stay here for the rest of the night," he said. He paused and chuckled. "Or at least… the rest of the morning. The mechanics need the time to install the accelerator on the engine, so you won't be able to practice your riding."

Cortessa swore loudly, slamming her fist on the table. "What, are you _trying_ to kill me, you Bantha?"

Gadon ignored her and Zaerdra's headtails flushed a beastly black-blue. "I've got good instincts," Gadon drawled. "You have the look of a racer about you. Just try to relax and in the morning we'll take you down to the swoop track."

He ushered them off to the guest quarters, which happened to be a single room in the middle of the base, with walls lined with bunks and footlockers. Cortessa, Carth, Zaalbar, and Mission picked a corner and settled there with their few belongings. Cortessa knew she needed the most sleep so she went to bed immediately. Mission hugged her tightly.

"I hope you make it okay," she said. "I like you, and I don't like people often."

Moved, Cortessa hugged back silently, her eyes fixed on Zaalbar and Carth, who huddled awkwardly to the side.

"I'll try my best, Mission," Cortessa murmured, and the Twi'lek threw herself into bed and buried her face in her pillow.

Zaalbar bowed to her. "I only hope that you may die with honor, Cortessa Blatt," he told her graciously. "It is unfortunate that our lifedebt seems to come to a close so soon. May Bacca be with you." Cortessa hugged him, too, for good measure, and his nose flushed with flustered embarrassment. He stroked her hair with his large, furry paw, before he curled up near Mission.

Cortessa could think of nothing to say to Carth. With a dismissive shrug, she curled up in her bed, leaving him to stand there alone.

"Good luck," he said at last.

She rolled over and pulled her blanket over her head.

------

Mission and Carth were up first, nudging Cortessa awake.

"Come on!" Mission hissed. "You have to eat something quick – the race is in an hour!"

Cortessa moaned. "Leave me here to die," she grumbled.

Carth lifted her bodily from the bed and hauled her down the cafeteria. Everyone stared but he ignored them as he set her down on a bench and shoved a bowl of sludge into her hands.

"Eat it," he said.

She stared at it for a moment, trying to calm her heaving stomach. "Sick," she squeaked.

"Just eat it, please," Mission said desperately. "You need something or you'll pass out on the track! Come on!"

Cortessa reluctantly slipped a spoonful into her mouth. It didn't taste as bad as it looked. She managed to finish it off before Carth stuffed her in a 'fresher and locked her inside.

"Hey!" she cried, beating on the door. "Let me out, you ungrateful little –" (and here she went off on an angry tirade, thinking up as many insults as possible).

Mission giggled and teased Carth about it for the rest of the day.

Once Cortessa was dressed and ready, Carth shoved her bodily down the hall into the arms of a waiting Rodian.

"Whoa!" said the Rodian, stunned, flushing. "I understand that you are eager to race but do calm down!" He gently detached her, looking rather embarrassed.

"We'll be watching you in the cafeteria on the vidscreen!" Mission called. "Good luck!"

Carth waved and they vanished from her sight.

"Come, we must move," said the Rodian, and pushed Cortessa ahead, into the blinding sunlight, where she was greeted with cheers from the various residents in the apartment complexes on either side. She stared at the track and gulped loudly.

This was not going to be fun.

_I'm sorry, Carth, for being a total witch to you. I only hope you don't kick my tombstone. _

------

Carth and Mission stood with their bodies pressed against the counter, staring at the screen with wide eyes. They were bustled about by Bek members, but for the most part they were allowed to keep their spots to see their friend. Carth could see faintly in the background a woman in a cage, bound with chains and collars, her head lolling about while she slept. Her hair fell in her eyes, masking her face, so that one's focus was brought immediately to her generous chest, but Carth knew who it was.

Bastila.

Cortessa stumbled onto the screen, being led by a Rodian man, who more or less looked eager to get this over with. Cortessa was pale and shaking, barely at her wits end. Carth couldn't blame her – the chances that she would die were high.

It would be a shame. He had almost begun to trust her, and she was a pretty face.

The Duros race announcer spoke with her, and with each word he said her knees seemed to give way a little. Mission was muttering under her breath.

"Come on, Corty. Do this for us."

He felt uncomfortable hearing the nickname. He hadn't given her one yet, even when she called him 'doll' or 'flyboy.' Perhaps, if she made it out alive, he would think of one. 'Beautiful' hardly sufficed, because she almost beat him every time he said it.

He watched as her Ithorian mechanic dragged her bike to the starting line. She staggered and tripped, landing not-so-smoothly on the ground. The Vulkars laughed. The Beks cried out in shame.

Zaalbar roared loudly with worry, and a few people stepped away from him.

She mounted her bike awkwardly and sat there like a statue. The cam zoomed in on her face, which was pale and gaunt with her lack of sleep and panic. Her eyes were wide and glassy and her lips were pulled into a tight line. She looked ready to hurl.

The clock went off and she slammed the accelerator, going off with a bang. Her mechanic backed away, wheezing and coughing as exhaust engulfed him.

The cam trained after her as her time rose up on the screen. There was no noise beyond the loud, mechanical buzz of her bike, but the expression her face clearly confirmed that she was screaming. Her hair whipped madly behind her and she nearly crashed thrice, and just as she reached the finish line she hit some debris and spun out of control.

Mission, Carth, and Zaalbar screamed, throwing themselves at the screen as if they could save her, but the counter held them back.

Then, suddenly, some eerie control came over Cortessa's face. She jerked on the controls and flipped the bike, bowing her head as it rolled sideways through the air, turning upside-down for a moment to land with a loud crunch.

Cortessa slumped over the controls, her face twisted with her shock and fright.

The Beks cheered loudly, punching the air and whooping. The time at the top read: 00:27:08

Cortessa looked like she was about to faint. Her mechanic hauled her out of her bike and handed her off to another Bek, who checked her for injuries.

Carth found himself laughing with delight. Someone thumped him on the back, and he was immediately sobered when they said, "Your girlfriend sure packs a punch."

Beside him, Mission smashed an ale bottle to the cheers of the surrounding Beks.

------

**Author's Notes: **I'm amazed at how much I managed to squeeze into this chapter. I almost lost heart in it… someone told me my writing was juvenile… I know I shouldn't let it get to me, because you've all been so supportive and wonderful, but it really hurt, and now I just don't know anymore, especially since I keep finding more and more errors in my writing.

**SilverSentinal21 **- Been playing like nuts. Now I'm on Nar Shaddaa. The. Locals. Are. Crap. I hate it. Aaaagh. The only reason I'm staying is because I want Mira.

**FaintlyAlarming **- -takes your picture-

**Amme Moto **- Found him guilty accidentally, found him guilty on purpose, found him innocent. All on different games. Sunry sucks.

**Dante-Revan **- Your support means a lot. I'm glad you like my character developement.


	14. Death and Bastila

**Savior Self **

_Taris part twelve. _

**Rated PG13 **

**Disclaimer: **I will own Star Wars eventually. Then it's Japan. Then it's Krispy Kreme. And then… THE WORLD!

**Savior Self **

Cortessa was given some water and a five-minute break. The cam occasionally caught her on the sidelines, her eyes closed, the color slowly coming back to her face, as her mechanic tsked at her for nearly destroying the bike when she had flipped it.

More Vulkars and Beks went, but only one managed to come close to her score, and they still lost.

Finally, one Vulkar went ahead, and beat her time by a hair. The Beks screamed their protests, slamming their fists on any nearby flat surface and brandishing bottles. Mission, now slightly tipsy, could only mumble obscenities and stand up straight.

The mechanic spat on the Vulkar, Redros, as he passed.

Cortessa got to her feet and approached the Duros race announcer. She seemed surer on her feet, now. The cam zoomed on her as she told the announcer she wanted to race another heat.

"Okay," said the announcer. "Let's get you on the track."

Her bike was hauled out again and she jumped loftily aboard. She was deliberate in what she did now and gripped the controls tightly, her feet poised on the brake and accelerator. The clock clicked down and she shot off again with a bang, leaving her mechanic coughing.

She hit nothing this time. She grabbed almost every booster. She raced with beauty and self-awareness this time around, and Carth found himself unable to look away. The finish line was coming up. Another lap and she was done.

Then a young Duros, not even yet out of diapers, tottered into the track to play with the debris in the middle of the road.

Cortessa slammed on the brakes, and the cam zoomed in on her stunned expression as she went flying over the hood of her bike, landing right in its way as it shot forward without its rider.

Everyone screamed, looking away to avoid the gory end to such a fine race, but Carth could not bring himself to. To his utter astonishment, Cortessa did the amazing.

In the split second she hadthrownherself to the ground, swinging her arm out to knock the infant aside. It landed somewhere on the side of the track, unharmed, as the bike whooshed an inch over Cortessa's head. The wind it made ruffled her hair and the back of its engine smacked her in the head, and the exhaust singed the back of her clothes.

The announcer was sputtering. Several onlookers had fainted.

Carth stared, wide-eyed, at Cortessa's body. She lay there flat on her stomach, not moving, her racing suit burnt all the way from her heels to her neck. She had almost made it… What a dreadful end to such a charming person.

Mission looked back and moaned with despair. The Duros infant had been scooped up by a nearby onlooker and handed to its mother, who was pallid and shaking. The cam zoomed in on the family before it panned around the track and aimed at the bike, which had crashed on the side of the track and remained there, burning.

The room was dead silent. A few of the more emotional Bek members had begun to cry. Carth felt numb. It didn't seem real. Just like that, she had died. She hadn't even been lost in a glorious explosion it was just… abrupt… pointless.

The cam zoomed in on her body, where the medics had just arrived. A Duros and a Twi'lek knelt at her side, barking orders to each other, when suddenly she stirred.

Screaming and shouting with horrified surprise, the medics scrambled backwards. The announcer could be heard swearing liberally and the Beks all cried out with astonishment.

Slowly, unsurely, Cortessa rose to her feet, a charred corpse stepping from its grave. Her face was dirty, her hands were charred, and her hair was wild, but she was alive, for her blue eyes stared out at them beneath the grime.

Stunned silence swept over the whole of Taris. Everyone was holding their breath.

Very slowly, she raised her hand and waved. The room erupted with cheers, and people jumped up and down, dousing each other in alcohol and slapping each other on the backs. Cortessa remained standing and the crowd rushed forward to hug her. Carth felt as if he was going to faint with relief. Mission let out a shriek of exhilaration, punching the air.

"YEAH!" she screamed. "GO CORTY!"

The medics recovered and pulled Cortessa from the mob and dragged her into a tent nearby, where they tended to her. The race was postponed an hour, with Redros's score still at the top.

Carth wanted to go down to the track, but he was not allowed to. So he and Mission and Zaalbar were stuck waiting in the cafeteria, amongst the rowdy Hidden Beks.

When Cortessa did emerge, she looked as if none of it had ever happened. Her suit was fresh and her hair was clean, and her skin was hidden behind not a single fleck of dirt. To everyone's surprise, she raced another heat.

Everyone expected something amazing to happen again, but nothing eventful occurred. She just went around the track quickly, hitting nothing, and reached the finish line with a time of 00:23:24.

The fastest Taris record in a history of fifty years.

The Beks in the cafeteria went absolutely wild, screaming and cheering so loudly Carth's head rang.

Mission grabbed Carth's hand and grinned up at him, bouncing up and down. "She won!" she cried. "She didn't even die! Nobody's going to beat that time! Nobody!"

As was tradition, the race went on until the end of the day, when the Duros announcer called the attention of both gangs. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the winter of the year's swoop race!" he barked. The cafeteria shook with the Bek's applause. The Duros motioned for Cortessa to step forward. "Put your hands together and show your appreciation of the most daring riders this swoop track has ever seen!"

If that wasn't the understatement of a year. She had survived being run over by a swoop bike!

"Through your skill and courage you have proven yourself the premier swoop rider on Taris, and brought great glory to the Hidden Bek gang! Now, here to present the champion's prize: Brejik, the leader of the Black Vulkars."

A dark-skinned man with a hooked nose stepped forth, dressed in tight armor that made his head look too small. He lifted his hands and the cheering dulled down. He spoke, his face twisting with anger. "People – hear me! Before I present the so-called champion of the Beks with her prize, there is something you must know: the winning rider cheated!"

Everyone gasped. All eyes turned to Cortessa. She lost her composure, her eyes flickering with unmasked fury. "You're a damn liar, Brejik!" she roared.

Brejik slapped her in front of everyone, and the world shuddered with a unified gasp. Mission and Carth knew all too well that Brejik had just crossed the line, and he was now a dead man. What he said then didn't matter, for as he spoke them to everyone else around him, Cortessa had recovered and was drawing her vibroblades, her eyes burning with hatred.

"Her swoop bike was using a prototype accelerator – clearly an unfair advantage! Because of this Hidden Bek treachery I'm withdrawing the Vulkar's share of the victory prize!"

The announcer sputtered with rage. "You can't do this, Brejik!" he cried. "You know the rules: nobody's allowed to withdraw a victory prize after the race. It goes against all our most sacred traditions!"

Carth watched Cortessa and cold dread filled his stomach. Her mechanic and the Rodian that had brought her there earlier were desperately trying to hold her back. Her blades burned white on the screen.

Brejik foolishly ignored her, thinking his armor would protect him against her. "You old fool!" he shouted to the Duros, who looked as if he was going to pass out from terror. "Your traditions mean nothing to me – I am the wave of the future! If I want to withdraw the prize and sell this woman on the slave market myself, nobody can stop me!"

Just as Cortessa managed to free herself and had poised her blade about Brejik's head, the woman in the cage stirred. The cam gave a jump and quickly zoomed in on her as she looked up and smiled nastily, her dark blue eyes swirling with her inner power.

"_I_ might have something to say about that, Brejik," she growled, and the cage exploded, sending her guard sprawling with a metal rod through his back. She knelt down and grabbed his weapon, her eyes fixed on the rest of the Black Vulkars.

Brejik stammered, and his skin turned pale brown. "What? Impossible! YOU were restrained by a neural disruptor! How could you have possibly summoned the will to free yourself?"

Bastila gave the double-sided vibroblade a twirl and nodded with satisfaction. "You underestimate the strength of a Jedi's mind, Brejik," she said coolly. "A mistake you won't live to regret."

Brejik panicked. "Vulkars – to me!" he screamed. "Kill them! Kill this woman! Kill the swoop rider! Kill them –!"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. Cortessa had jammed her vibroblade through the back of his skull and the tip of it now glinted ruby red between his lips. Blood gushed over the front of his armor and he jerked once before he gave way and died.

Cortessa flicked him away, beyond the range of the cam, and the screen went blank.

The cafeteria was dead silent. The Beks stared at each other, each one paler than the last, and their food lay forgotten on the counters.

Mission stared at Carth and he nodded. Silently (and no one stopped him), he paid for Mission's drinks and led the group out the door.

------

The swoop track was still barricaded from the public, so no one could go down and see what was going on. But if someone pressed their ear to the door the sound of blasterfire and the clang of bladed weapons was obvious.

Everyone thought that Cortessa had died. Despite her murder of Brejik, she looked to be too frail to survive against an entire swoop gang.

Carth and Mission knew better. So, leading a reluctant Zaalbar, they went back to their apartment and holed up in there for a while.

Sure enough, about an hour later, Cortessa limped in, muddy and ragged. Her hair fell in her eyes, masking them, but Carth could tell from the way she held herself that she was feeling wretched. He reached out and grabbed her hand, and she looked up at him gratefully.

Another woman stepped inside, her hair pulled back still in its complicated bangles, her breasts practically leering at them all inside that horrid outfit the Vulkars had forced upon her. To make up for it, she wore Cortessa's vest, which Cortessa didn't look too happy about.

Carth, despite himself, cried out with joy. "Bastila!" he cried. "You're alive!" Well, of course she was alive. She was a Jedi! But he had feared the worst – worrying that their entire mission was in vain. Apparently not, for here Bastila stood. "Finally, things are looking up!"

Cortessa's hands slithered out from his and got lost in her pockets.

Carth continued, ignoring the obvious warning signs from both women. "Now we just need to figure out a way to get off this planet."

Bastila wrinkled her nose. "You mean you don't have a plan to get off Taris yet?" she said incredulously. "What have you been _doing_ all this time?" Carth sensed that she, too, was expecting the least of him in a crisis, and had assumed that he and Cortessa… well. His face turned red with embarrassment and anger.

Cortessa spoke up in a hissing voice, her tone clearly resentful. "We were trying to find _you_, remember?"

Bastila looked at her, raising her eyebrows scrupulously. "I see," she said. "Well, now that I'm back in charge of this mission, perhaps we can start doing things properly. Hopefully our escape from Taris will go more smoothly than when you 'rescued' me from Brejik."

Cortessa snarled. Carth's anger blew. "I know you're new at this, Bastila, but a leader doesn't berate her troops just because things aren't going as planned!" he shouted. "Don't let your ego get in the way of the real issues here!"

Bastila cocked her head in a haughty way, folding her arms. "That hardly strikes me as an appropriate way of addressing your commander, _Carth_," she spat. "I am a member of the Jedi Order and this is my mission. Don't forget that!" She took a deep breath and went on a romantic rant about herself. "My Battle Meditation ability has helped the Republic many times in this war, and it will serve us as well here, I am sure."

Carth sneered. "Your talents may win us a few battles, but that doesn't make you a good leader! A good leader would at last listen to the advice of those who have seen more combat than she ever will!" He was beginning to like working under Cortessa's leadership more – at least she had respect. Her constant questions were far better than Bastila's lack of concern.

"Both of you shut the hell up!" Cortessa screamed at last, and Mission piped in from the background: "Yeah!"

Zaalbar took a deep breath and roared his agreement.

Bastila, paling beneath the Wookiee, consented. "Yes… you're right, of course," she mumbled. "I apologize, Carth. This has been a difficult time for me. Of course I'm happy to listen to your advice. What do you suggest we do?"

Carth wanted to seal the matter off for good. "First of all, we can't get hung up on who's in charge; we all need to work together if we want to get off this rock. The answer's out there, we just need to find it."

Bastila nodded. "Well said, Carth. And the sooner we start looking the better; I've already been a prisoner of the Vulkars and I don't plan on being captured by the Sith."

Cortessa was impatient. "Let's get on it, then!"

Bastila glared at her. "I think we'll need some help getting off Taris," she said. "Maybe if we ask around one of the locals can help us out. We should probably start by asking around the cantinas."

Cortessa rolled her eyes and flopped on her bed. "I'm going to lights-out," she informed them all. "We have a busy day tomorrow."

"Rest well," Bastila said, a little reluctantly.

Carth nodded silently, and Mission waved. Zaalbar curled up beside the door and began to snore.

As everyone else went to bed, Carth couldn't help but wonder: What had he gotten himself into?

------

**Author's Notes: **THANKS SO MUCH FOR 1,650 HITS. Can't find the captain in JekkJekk Tar. Want to stabbity pointless people who just glare at me. I'm running around in circles and getting in trouble with people for opening doors. oo;; And Atton is like, "I don't want to talk to you. We're not 'ready.'" I'm like, "if I beat you at pazaak, will we be ready?" and he's like, "That's not a dialog option." and I'm like, "screw you."

**Amme Moto **- I liked the catfight, too. I'm glad you noticed it. I'm also glad you noticed her bloodthirstyness... ness...

**Dante-Revan **- I'm actually several chapters ahead in the story (I like to be two steps ahead). From what I can tell, I get better as the story progresses. Not much, but a little.

**SilverSentinal21 **- Visas reminds me very strongly of Juhani. I think Bioware has an obsession with Jedi alien girls whose homeworlds were bombed and who seem to be frighteningly attracted to your femal character, and willing to follow her every step.o.O Maybe if we take of Visas'shead mask, she'll actually be Juhani IN DISGUISE. I actually wrote a short little skip where Jolee mistakes Visas for a drape... eh. But yeah. Yay Visas. XD  
Actually, though, Imet these Twi'lektwins who told me about Atton's past. And he was like, "Hahahahaha it was fun." And I was like, "o.O"AND I STILL GAINED INFLUENCE. It was awesome. And Kreia was like, "I knew all along. -smirk-" And Visas was like, "Huh? Wha?" And Bao-Dur was like, "I can't heeeearr yoooooooou." And remote was like, "-floaty floaty-"

**FaintlyAlarming** - Me too. I hope you like this one more.

**Ilea Dreike** - Nice to see a new face. Hello, there. Thanks for the kind comments, they mean so much.


	15. She Swings

**Savior Self **

_Taris part fourteen _

**Rated PG13 **

**Disclaimer: **I do not own. I do not earn. I do not sue, and neither do you. Hee hee!

**Savior Self **

****

****

The next morning, Cortessa left to get them all something to eat. Bastila had to admit that the offer was very kind of her. She hadn't expected as much from her, even when Carth talked about her fondly.

When the woman returned, she was juggling large amount of hot caffa and a large box of synthesized breakfast. She set it on the table with a clatter, looking winded, for her cheeks, nose, and lips were flushed.

Bastila could feel the Force waves around her – how raw and strong she was. She had been foolish to think that, just because she had a new identity, that she would no longer be Force sensitive.

Revan, you haven't changed a bit.

Revan – no, Cortessa – was upset. As inconspicuously as she could, Bastila asked what was the matter.

The woman glared at her. "Nothing," she snapped with obvious contempt.

Bastila chose not to be affected. She backed off for now. "As you wish. We should move on, then. We won't get off Taris just sitting here."

"And we won't get off Taris if we starve to death, so shut up and eat," Cortessa told her, and sat down at the table. Everyone sat down as well and ate in silence.

"So, Mission," Cortessa mumbled quietly. "Tell me about yourself."

Mission was flattered at the attention. Bastila listened in, just to see how Cortessa reacted, to see if her false identity was still working.

"Really?" Mission said, flushing with pleasure. "You want to know about me? Nobody's ever really been interested in me before. What did you want to know?"

Cortessa thought about it. "Where are your parents?" she asked. "Do you have a family?"

Mission shifted uncomfortably. "Big Z's my family, you know? My parents… well, I guess they're dead. It was just me on my own until the day I saw Zaalbar in the Lower City. I could tell right away he was in trouble. This was before the gang wars were out of hand, but even then, the Vulkars were scum. A few of them were hassling Big Z, trying to pick a fight – but he wasn't looking for trouble." She paused, trying to see if Cortessa wanted to hear more or not.

Cortessa nodded. "Go on."

Mission grinned. "Anyway, I don't like Vulkars at the best of times. And when I saw them picking on this poor Wookiee – all alone on a strange planet, overwhelmed by the big city – I just lost it. I screamed out, 'Leave him alone, you core-slimes!' and charged right at them. One of them saw me coming and slapped my so hard he just about knocked me cold."

Cortessa looked her over. "Thank goodness you weren't fried with a blaster," she said.

Bastila had to agree.

Mission's headtails flushed. "Hey, I don't need a lecture from you! You ain't my mother! I knew what I was doing!" She took a deep breath and continued her story. "Those Vulkars didn't scare me. They're nothing but cowards. I knew how to deal with them. Of course, I never got the chance. I guess Zaalbar didn't like seeing me get smacked around. He let out this howl and yanked that Vulkar a meter up off the ground and held him there by his throat."

Cortessa's eyes widened. "What did the other two Vulkars do?"

Mission's tone became gleeful and she grinned. "The other two screamed and ran off. Can't say I blame them. The first time you seen an angry Wookiee up close, it isn't a pretty sight. I thought Zaalbar was going to rip off that punk's arms and beat him to death with his own fists. The Vulkar was so scared he fainted. Or maybe Big Z's breath just knocked him out."

" Mission!" Zaalbar cried, mortified.

Mission ignored him. "I keep telling Zaalbar to brush those choppers of his, but he never listens. Just stay upwind when he's speaking and you'll be fine." She giggled. "Anyway, I knew those Vulkars would be back with friends, so I grabbed Zaalbar and we took off. Ever since then we've been a team. We look out for each other, you know?"

Cortessa nodded. "Thanks for telling me," she said. She glanced at the time. "Oh, no! We've got to get moving! We have a lot to do today."

Mission nodded. "Yeah, I suppose you're right," she said. "Like I used to tell my brother – fast talk and slick words don't get the job done."

Cortessa glanced at her, eyes shining with curiosity. "I didn't know you had a brother," she said.

Mission's expression turned sour. "My brother's a touchy subject, you know? It just so happens that I don't really feel like talking about him right now. Nothing personal. Let's just get back to the business at hand, okay?"

Cortessa nodded, frowning, and finished off her breakfast in silence.

------

The moment Cortessa stepped out the door, she was greeted by a gangly, green-skinned Twi'lek adolescent. He gaped up at her, slack-jawed, his brown eyes wide.

Cortessa was mildly repulsed. "Yes?" she managed to growl.

"You're the rider that won the Great Swoop Race in the Lower City, right?" the kid sputtered at last. Mission looked him over, revolted.

Cortessa wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible. "No, you must be mistaken," she said smoothly, and moved to brush past him.

He grabbed her arm. "No, human," he said. "I don't think so. I saw the swoop race: you were there. You died and rose again. You saved a baby. You flipped the bike. You posted the best time."

Cortessa winced.

"You are the one I was sent to find." The Twi'lek took a deep breath. "I have a message from Canderous Ordo. He says to meet him in the cantina."

Recognition struck. Cortessa batted her lashes to hide her emotion. "Canderous? The Mandalorian that works for Davik, right?"

Carth grunted. He didn't like Canderous.

The Twi'lek nodded. "Yes, that's the one," he said. "Given his connections, you can see why it would be smart to attend this meeting."

Cortessa put her hands on her hips. "I don't think I'll be able to make this '_meeting_,'" she said. She knew all about slimy guys' ways of getting a girl alone. She sensed Canderous might want something along this line. If she was told to leave her friends behind, she wouldn't go at all.

The Twi'lek got her meaning. "Well… he didn't say why he wanted to meet you," he muttered. "He only said that he had an offer you couldn't refuse."

Suspicious. Cortessa slipped the kid a Pazaak card. "Thanks. I'll think about it."

The Twi'lek nodded. "I would advise you not to put this meeting off for too long, human. Mandalorians are known for many things, but patience is not one of them."

Cortessa headed around the complex ring and stepped outside, taking a deep breath and cleansing her mind. She had brought Mission and Carth with her, for a famous Jedi and a large Wookiee would attract too much attention in the Upper City. Carth and Cortessa got enough attention for their looks, and Mission was odd because she was blue. They didn't need a stunningly beautiful Jedi princess and a hulking Wookiee drawing more eyes.

Cortessa started for the cantina. Carth mumbled silently behind her, his eyes downcast. Mission looked miserable, her headtails flat and drooping, her eyes wide and pitiful. She whimpered and grumbled unhappily, dragging her feet.

Unable to stand it any longer, Cortessa turned to face her. "Is something the matter?" she asked, folding her arms.

Mission stared back, eyes wide. "I… I was a little snappish when we last talked. I'm sorry about that," she said. Cortessa softened. "I get a little touchy when it comes to Griff. It's kind of embarrassing telling people about him."

Cortessa rested a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to," she offered.

Mission shook her head. "No! I want to tell you. Zaalbar's a great listener but it might be nice to talk about this with someone who doesn't reply in growls and grunts." They smiled at each other. The Twi'lek teenager took a deep breath. "I never knew my parents; my brother always looked out for me. He's the one who brought me to Taris. I was just a kid, only five. But I remember the trip – if you could call it that."

"What do you mean?"

"We were stuffed inside a packing crate in a star freighter's cargo hold with just enough food and water to make the trip. Not exactly first class, you know?" She smiled, shaking her head.

Cortessa blinked, fascinated. "You were stowaways?"

Mission shrugged. "I don't know the whole story – I was pretty young. But my brother owed a lot of money. Might even have been a few arrest warrants out for him… I don't know." She sighed. "Anyway. The only way to get off the planet was to smuggle ourselves out. I mean, I don't want to make it sound like we were criminals… well… maybe my brother was…" She wrinkled her nose, struggling with herself until her headtails turned purple. Finally she managed to stammer, "See, this is why I don't like to talk about it! It makes Griff sound worse than he really was! My brother had his problems, but he always looked out for me."

Cortessa nodded. "What kind of problems did he have?" she asked warmly.

Mission bit her lip. "He gambled. And drank. And smoked. And… and… and he was always borrowing money for his latest get-rich-quick scheme. And he was only… what… eight… nine years older than me? He wasn't old enough to do that stuff! But he had a good heart, you know? He taught me how to survive."

"How so?"

"He showed me how to slice into a computer's security system, how to get inside a locked building without the access codes, and how to spot a wealthy mark for a quick shell game."

Cortessa forced herself to lie, for Mission's sake. "Pretty nifty skills, Mission."

Mission beamed. "Yeah. Griff did right by me." She drooped again, sighing sullenly. "I really miss him since he left. I keep hoping he'll come back some day. He promised me he would."

Cortessa had to wonder. "Why did he leave?"

Mission scowled thoughtfully. "He fell in with the bad crowd." Carth actually snorted behind them. Griff _was_ the bad crowd. Mission rushed to defend her brother. "It's all Lena's fault! She's the one who took him from me! Just batted those long lashes at him and off he went!"

Cortessa frowned. "Who's Lena?"

Mission went rigid, glaring at the ground. "I don't want to talk about _Griff and Lena_," she muttered. "Just the thought of that space tramp makes my blood boil. Subject's closed as far as I'm concerned." She looked up again, and though she had a controlled look on her face, her headtails were flushed and twitching with her inner anger. "If I'm going to be any help to you, I can't be worrying about my brother running off with some intergalactic skank. So, can we go see Canderous?"

Cortessa nodded. "Sure. Okay."

Mission sighed. "Thank you."

Cortessa smiled sympathetically and opened the cantina door.

------

They stepped into the cantina silently, clumped together, and spotted Canderous right away. His muscular bulk took up half the walkway. Mission hadn't seen enough of him to have an opinion, but he looked a little shady around the edges, and Carth was gripping his blaster with enough force to make it whine in complaint.

Canderous looked over as they approached and grinned approvingly, leaning against the bar counter. Cortessa nodded and they shook hands, staring firmly into each other's eyes. Canderous grabbed her arm and led her to a table, sitting very close to her. He kept his voice soft and Mission leaned in to hear. Carth pressed his hands to the tabletop.

"I saw you in the swoop race," Canderous told her. "Very impressive. You seem to know how to get results. That's just he kind of person I'm looking for."

Cortessa raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?" she asked.

Canderous cracked his neck. "I work for Davik Kang and the Exchange; the hours aren't great, but they promised me a fortune to work for them and I have nothing better to do. Mandalorian mercs like me are in high demand." He took a long drag from a cigarra, gazing at the ceiling thoughtfully. "But lately, Davik hasn't been paying me what he promised. I don't like getting cheated, so I figured it's time for me to break the Sith quarantine and get off this backwater planet."

Cortessa frowned. "Why are you telling me this?" she hissed.

He grinned. "I've got a plan to escape Taris, but I can't do it alone," he said. Mission braced herself. Uh-oh. She knew how these dealings went – her brother used to pull them on her all the time. She glanced at Carth, who shared her unease.

Canderous ignored them both as if they were spots of dirt on the floor. "I need someone I know can get the job done to help me," he said. "That's where you come in."

Carth grabbed Cortessa's shoulder tightly and squeezed it. She glared at him. "Be careful," he hissed in her ear. "Mercs like this haven't a lick of conscience… they'll betray you in a heartbeat. This could be a trap."

Cortessa twitched. Mission shared her views on Carth's tight-lipped security and his lack of trust. Anything he said about someone else could be effectively discredited.

Canderous glared at Carth, resting his elbow on the table and resting a hand on Cortessa's other shoulder, his cigarra hanging from his mouth. "I ain't talking to you," he said. "I'm talking to your friend, aren't I?"

Carth flushed with anger and stepped back, gritting his teeth.

Canderous turned back to Cortessa. "I saw you win that swoop race, and I started thinking. Anyone crazy enough to race like that is probably crazy enough to break into the Sith military base."

Mission gasped with horror. The military base? Was he nuts? Canderous flicked a cigarra butt at her and she felt her headtails throb with rage.

Cortessa cleared her throat. "Stop harassing my friends or I won't do anything for you, buddy."

Canderous was subdued. "Fine. Anyway… I need someone to steal the Sith launch codes from the base. Without those codes, any ship leaving the atmosphere will be disintegrated by the Sith fleet's automated defense guns."

Cortessa cocked an eyebrow. "Why should I help you?"

Canderous grinned, lighting another cigarra and slipping it between his teeth. "Here's the deal: you bring me those launch codes and I can provide the vehicle to get off this planet – Davik's flagship, the Ebon Hawk."

Cortessa's lips twitched with her inner, amused disbelief. "And how are you going to manage that?"

He wagged a finger at her, but his eyes twinkled at her interest. "Uh-uh. Not yet. First, you bring me the launch codes. Then I'll tell you the rest of my plan."

Cortessa nodded. "How am I supposed to get inside the military base?"

"Hold on," Canderous said. He looked around. "We've been sitting here too long. Let's move."

"What?"

"Just do it." He got up and moved to another part of the cantina, standing in a shady corner. Cortessa followed with Carth and Mission and they all stood together again.

Canderous took a drag from his cigarra. "Okay. Getting in won't be easy: the Sith base is protected by an encrypted security system. It would take a top-of-the-line astromech droid to slice through it. Lucky for you I know just the place to get a droid like that. Davik was having one custom built by Janice Nall. Just tell her Canderous sent you and she'll sell you the droid. Then you can use it to get the launch codes from the Sith base."

Cortessa was suspicious. "Why don't you do this yourself?" she asked him slowly.

Canderous shook his head. "Normally I would do this myself," he said. "But everyone knows who I work for. If I broke into the Sith base, they'd send an army down on Davik's estate to get those codes back. That's why I need you." He paused, smirking. "Besides, Janice is... well, she's not… she _swings_, do you see?"

Cortessa was silent.

Canderous sighed. "She doesn't take an interest in men so much. She'd rather… well…"

"Out with it."

"She's a lesbian. I figured you could work her better than your boyfriend can."

Cortessa considered him for a moment. After a moment, she nodded, to Mission's horror. She shook his hand, and her slim fingers were lost inside his huge, callused paw. "Okay, Canderous," she said, her face set and determined. "You've got a deal."

Canderous grinned his strange, hard grin, and tossed his cigarra away. "I'm going to wait in Javyar's cantina tomorrow," he said. "You come find me when you've got those launch codes and I'll make sure we both get off this rock." He walked around her, letting his arm loop around her waist and his hand drag over her hips and stomach before he left.

Cortessa shuddered, her face flushing. Mission suspected that she had a small thing for the Mandalorian. Or maybe it was just the stim boosters Mission had accidentally put in her caffa instead of Bastila's. Probably both. Carth, like Cortessa, was red in the face, but with anger and jealousy, rather with flustered attraction.

"What was that about?" he spluttered, but kept his voice soft.

Cortessa turned her gaze to him. "Hey, we have a way off this planet," she said coolly. "I don't sense any deception from him, and he'll pay if he does betray us."

Carth sighed. "As much as I hate to say it, you're probably right," he muttered. "We're going to need that ship."

"That's right," she said. "You remind yourself of that, doll, because I'm sure as hell not passing this up."

He glared at her back as she headed for the dueling chambers, twirling her vibroblades with an airy expertise. She spoke with the Hutt and beat the last two contenders – an old, capable man, and a jumpy Rodian. The old man gave her a run for money, and she left with a definite limp, but she was in high spirits.

"That wasn't very smart," Carth said unhappily as she pocketed roughly 1,000 credits. "Now everyone knows who you are."

"As if they wouldn't from the swoop race, in case you haven't noticed," she replied, holding her side even as she grinned at him.

He frowned. Mission thought his concern was cute. She realized with a start that she hadn't forgiven him for calling her a kid so long ago. How could she have off apologizing for so long? She was ashamed.

"Hey, uh… Carth?" she said, touching his arm, distracting him from his eyeball-fight with Cortessa. "Can I… can I talk to you for a second?"

He stared at her. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

He blinked. "What? Sorry for what?"

"For… um… getting mad at you. It's just that I'm sick of everyone treating me like I'm a helpless kid."

Carth smiled. "Hey, it's okay. I know. And I'm sorry about what I said, too. I'm just a little on edge lately. Not surprising, considering what we've all been through. But I shouldn't take it out on you."

Mission doubted his stress was from their current situation. She got the feeling it was all Cortessa's doing.

Speaking of which, the woman was grinning at them both, her arms folded. "It's nice to hear you two being civil," she said.

Mission stuck out her tongue at her.

Carth took the Twi'lek's shoulder in his large hands. " Mission, you have to know that we don't think you're helpless," he said firmly. "Look where we are; look at what we're doing. You're not just along for the ride. We need you."

Mission was touched. "You really mean it, don't you?" she murmured. Tears stung at her eyes. "Nobody's ever said anything like that to me before, not even Big Z. He might think it, but he's not really one for words, you know? Thanks, Carth."

He smiled at her. She was shocked to feel her stomach do a flip. Maybe Cortessa had a reason for flirting with him like that – he sure didn't look old when he smiled. "Ah, it's no big deal," he said casually, shrugging. "Sometimes you just need to hear a few words of encouragement." He had meant this to grab Cortessa and to be nice at once, but then he decided to twist it into a playful barb. "Kids are like that."

Mission exploded. "KIDS ARE LIKE THAT?" she screamed, glaring. Then she realized that he was kidding, from the way he looked at her with a grin. She took a deep breath and laughed at herself. "Oh. I get it. Okay, you got me. You're pretty funny, Carth. For an old guy. Come on, you geezer – let's get back to what we were doing."

They grinned, nodding to each other, and Cortessa led the way back to the apartment to inform the others of Canderous and the Ebon Hawk.

------

**Author's Notes: **Ooooo. Sexy elder Mandalorian men. Corty's got taste.

**FaintlyAlarming **– Here you go.

**SilverSentinal21 **– I went to Dantooine before I got your message. I left because it brought back so many memories and I was sad that it had changed so much. XD I'm pathetic. No, Atton won't tell me why he joined the Sith, only that he killed Jedi. I wanna stabbity his cute brown eyes out.

**Vila**** Skye **– Lovely, doll. I had fun with this chapter, too.

**Amme Moto **– I /know/. I loved Brejik's death. I thought it would add some humor, too. Corty ain't gonna take no more.


	16. Janice Nall is Your Gal

**Savior Self **

_Bastila blows up and T3-M4 beeps annoyingly. _

_Taris part fifteen.. _

**Rated PG13 **– **WARNING, LUFFS! **This chapter contains a lesbian Janice Nall and a very horny Cortessa. But no: she doesn't screw Carth.

**Disclaimer: **You know what? I'm getting sick of disclaimers. Shock! Amazement!

**Savior Self **

Cortessa strode into the apartment and could immediately feel the icy tension between Bastila and Zaalbar. They stood with their backs to each other, arms folded, their faces screwed up with identical expressions of loathing. They looked up when everyone entered and cried out.

"Cortessa Blatt!" Zaalbar roared desperately. "She demeans my lifedebt to you!"

"I did not!" Bastila sputtered, flushing. "I merely said that she had a reason not to bring you along and that you didn't need to –"

"It's alright, Zaalbar," Cortessa said, pressing a hand on his huge, hairy paw and gazing up at him earnestly. "I'll talk to her, alright?"

Bastila spluttered, turning pink. "Excuse me?"

"Look, now's not the time for fighting," Cortessa said airily, reclining on the bed, folding her arms and suggestively feeling her thigh. Carth looked away, Bastila glared, Mission watched with fascination, and Zaalbar seemed to be unaffected. Cortessa didn't mean anything by it – other than to bug the hell out of Carth and Bastila and to remember what it felt like to be properly touched. Canderous had aroused something in her; she realized how long it had been since she had been intimate with anyone.

"Why? Do you have something you wish to tell us?" Bastila growled.

Cortessa sucked on her finger, spreading her legs and leaning back, reclining against the wall, her eyes searching the ceiling. Carth seemed to be struggling with himself; Mission's eyes widened; Bastila's glare turned sterner. "Okay, look," Cortessa said at last, pushing her hair back and resting the other hand on her inner thigh. "This guy named Canderous has offered to give us a ride on the fastest ship in the quadrant – the Ebon Hawk. But first we have to buy a droid to hack into the military base and get the launch codes to break the quarantine."

"Absolutely not!" Bastila cried. "We are not going to break the law to get off this planet!"

Cortessa smiled, laughing. "Well, it's the only plan I've got."

Carth, firmly avoiding her gaze, looked at Bastila. "I was there," he said. "She's right. I thought it over several times. There's no other alternative."

Bastila scowled. "I'll make an alternative," she sniffed.

Cortessa got to her feet and got Bastila in a very personal grip, with one finger against her jaw, holding her gaze in the right direction, while the rest were resting on her neck or gripping her lower back. Her leg had locked Bastila's thigh to her own in case the Jedi tried to pull away. She actually had no interest in seducing Bastila – she didn't lean that way. But it wouldn't hurt to twist things to her liking.

Bastila gasped with surprise, horror, and some sort of inner pleasure.

Cortessa reveled in her power. She smirked, hissing in her captive's ear. "I'm taking charge, beautiful," she murmured. Bastila was atremble in her hands.

Mission's gaze was boring into them both. Zaalbar was becoming concerned. Carth looked like he was going to burst. Slowly, Cortessa pulled away, sighing.

"Okay, then. Let's move."

Bastila slumped into a seat, fighting the deep blush in her cheeks. She still trembled obviously.

"One moment," Carth muttered, and vanished into the bathroom. Mission watched him silently, and a moment later she burst into a fit of giggles.

Cortessa sighed. "I'm glad I'm so amusing."

------

As they headed for the northern part of Upper Taris, they came upon an Ithorian being harassed by two preteen children, who kicked him and threw things at him. The Ithorian screamed and cried for help, but no one looked back. The kids worked him into an alleyway and began thoroughly beating him, striking with prejudice.

The Ithorian squealed with pain, covering his head. He spotted Cortessa watching and reached out for her, though his hand was immediately hit by the little boy's shoe. "Please, human – I am injured and in need of assistance!" he gasped. "These human children keep hitting and kicking me. I cannot reason with them, but if I fight back I could be arrested."

The boy spat on him and kicked the Ithorian again. "Get out of here, you goggle-eyed freak! You're too ugly for the Upper City!"

The other girl chucked a can at him. "Yeah – go back where you came from! We don't want your kind up here!"

The laughed with each other.

The Ithorian cried out as they kicked him again in unison. He sank to his knees, and held out his hands pleadingly. His palms were stained red with blood. "Please – human! Help me! Maybe these offspring of your species will listen to you!"

Cortessa advanced. "Hey, you little punks! Leave that Ithorian alone!"

The girl stared up at her with disbelief. "Why do _you _care what happens to some scummy alien?" she asked. "He's just a freak!"

The boy grinned and violently lobbed something sharp at the Ithorian's head. The Ithorian moaned with pain.

Cortessa lost her patience. She drew her vibroblades and thrust them at the children. "Get out of here, you monsters, or I'll gut you and feed you to this 'scummy alien!'" she shrieked.

The children screamed, their eyes going wide, and they ran for their lives, stumbling over each other.

The Ithorian stumbled woozily to his feet. "Thank you, human," he mumbled. "I was returning from a visit with a work associate when those child humans attacked me and chased me through the streets."

Cortessa softened. She took the Ithorian's hands and studied them. "You're hurt," she said quietly. "Here – have a medpack. Let me help you."

The Ithorian grunted in thanks. "You are too kind, human," he said quietly. "I thank you for your generosity. Most of your kind here on Taris care little for aliens like myself. Once more, thank you for saving me from those human children. I must take leave of you now. My life mate will be wondering where I am."

Cortessa nodded and the Ithorian walked away. Carth smiled at her approvingly, and, though she indulged in this inwardly, she turned her back to him and continued on to Janice Nall's droid shop.

Janice Nall was a slim-faced Twi'lek woman with a slick look about her as she leaned against the wall, drilling two pieces together, her right leg resting on the counter. Two astromech droids bleeped when Cortessa strode in, and Janice looked up, her liquid-like green eyes slipping over them.

"Hey," she said in a smooth voice – and in clear Basic. She tossed her head, shaking her headtails free of their confining collar. She smiled at them, wiping her grease-stained hands on her pants, and reached over to shake hands. Cortessa shook, taking a liking to this woman.

Janice's nose was smudged with grease and oil. Her clothes were worn and dirtied. Her hands were wound tightly in bandages and she had the look of a tom-boy around her, even as her eyes were darkly and heavily made up. She set the piece she was working on aside and leaned on the desk, studying the group. "So. Janice Nall at your service. Welcome to my droid and droid supply shop. Always good to see a new face – customers are hard to come by. A lot of the Taris citizens won't even come in here they refuse to shop at a store owned by a Twi'lek." She rolled her eyes. "Stuck-up gizka-spawn, the lot of them, for all I care." Her headtails flicked with annoyance. "They don't like aliens much here in Upper Taris. They tolerate us Twi'leks, but they'd rather see us as dancers in the cantina than successful business owners." She pressed a flattered hand to her breast-less chest. "Like moi."

Carth shook his head, sighing. "You'd think people would be a little more tolerant of others this day and age. I guess stupidity and ignorance will never go out of style."

Cortessa glanced appraisingly at him. Mission, too, was eying him with respect. "That's the most noble thing I've heard you say, Carth," Cortessa said.

Uncomfortable with the praise, he looked away, falling silent.

Janice chuckled, and stripped off her muddy, thick boots. She slammed the boots on the table, and caked grime flecked the table. "Alright," she said. "My selection is limited right now – the Sith confiscated all my assault droids. But I've got a utility droid you might find interesting." She brushed herself off and waited for an answer, checking them both out approvingly.

Cortessa smiled, folding her arms over her chest protectively. "Canderous said you'd sell the T3-M4 droid to me."

Janice blinked, her eyes growing wide. "Canderous sent you!" she gasped. "Well why didn't you say so?" She quickly switched on a hurried, business-like manner, digging around for some papers. "Okay. The droid is ready. You can have him for 2,000 credits…"

Cortessa worked a little magic. "That price is outrageous," she said, batting her lashes seductively. Though it made her feel awkward, she seemed to be better at working lesbians than she was at working regular men. Mission was oblivious, but Carth sensed this and stared at her, wide-eyed, and she ignored him. What did it matter for him if she was straight or not? He wouldn't trust her enough to rough her up in either case. She continued with her bargaining. "Surely you can go… oh… half?"

Janice grinned, winking. "Half? If you're trying to rob me why not stick a blaster in my face?" She laughed. "On the other hand, I do want to stay on Davik's good side. Tell you what, he's yours for 1,500."

Cortessa considered it. She glanced at Carth. "How much we got, doll?"

Carth rummaged in their supply sack. "3,000, give or take," he mumbled at last.

Nodding, she turned back to Janice. "Alright. It's a deal."

Janice was delighted. "Okay, the T3-M4 unit is yours. Pleasure doing business with you." She looked Cortessa up and down, smirking. "A _real_ pleasure."

Cortessa bowed and a silver droid rolled up to her, nudging against her legs and blatting. Mission stared for a moment before she squealed and tackled the droid, hugging it tightly. "Oh my gods!" she giggled. "He's so adorable!"

T3-M4 bleeped with confused alarm. His mechanical head turned to Cortessa for guidance.

She burst into a fit of laughter, clutching her sides and heaving. Her face flushed and it was hard to breathe. Finally Carth clapped a hand on her shoulder.

"That's really quite enough," he told her firmly. "We need to get moving."

Sobered for the moment, she nodded, still struggling to breathe. She wiped a tear away, shaking her head. The nodded and sighed before she burst out laughing again.

Janice snickered quietly behind her desk before she rushed off to do something else.

Carth growled with frustration. "We don't have _time _for this!" he shouted.

T3-M4 twittered resignedly, allowing Mission to squeeze him and hug him with all of her might. Cortessa nodded, and finally got a handle on herself. She knelt down beside Mission, staring right at the little droid.

"Listen, little guy," she said. "I need you here. I want you to hack into the military base. Think you can do that?"

T3-M4's sensor light brightened and he blurted an enthusiastic reply. Nodding, Cortessa stepped back and let him roll away, out the door. She glanced once at the rest of them, saluted, winked, twitched her hip in a teasingly dirty gesture, and skipped after the droid.

"Wow," Mission muttered.

Carth said nothing, though he had gone a faint shade of pink.

------

Carth started after Cortessa, and had to struggle to keep up with her. She skipped and twirled through the air, bouncing like a ballet dancer on stims, giggling as she chased the whirring astromech droid. He actually had to break out into a fair half-run, bobbing as he went, his belt clinking quietly. Mission sprinted alongside him, her little legs barely keeping up with his. The shiny plate on her heavy combat suit shone bright in the sun. Her headtails shimmered with an excited sweat, and her eyes glowed. She was ready for action.

They caught up to Cortessa at last. She stood, leaning casually against the wall, her shoulders pressed again the smooth concrete of the military base, her abdomen tilted out, her legs crossed beneath her. She smiled with a coy, false innocence at passerby, tilting her head and pressing a slim finger to her forehead in greeting. T3-M4 inconspicuously tinkered with a consol nearby.

She was playing to avoid the eye of onlookers.

Catching on, Carth stood an acceptable distance away, staring out at the Tarisian landscape. Mission leaned against him, squaring her shoulders to look like some sort of bodyguard. He smirked. She couldn't pull it off. Just like her.

He looked over to Cortessa, who was murmuring to the droid, her eyes fixed on a passing man. Something had definitely crawled up her shorts. She was more sensual and slinky than ever, and it drove him wild. He didn't mean to – it didn't feel alright to think of her like that, especially while she was so young. But she must be very desperate, for she was now going after everyone, from the lesbian Janice Nall to the vulgar Canderous Ordo. Carth wondered apprehensively if he'd be next. He knew it must be torture, for her to have nothing to go on for gods-knew how long. Regardless, he only hoped her inner tension wouldn't get in the way of anything important, like getting off of this rock.

T3-M4 squealed, rolling backwards, and the door opened with a hiss. Cortessa looked up, locking gazes with Carth. She nodded once. He nodded back, grabbing Mission's forearm, and heading into the base.

As the elevator door shut behind them Cortessa sighed, shifting her shoulders into a more comfortable position.

"Well," she said with a broad smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "This is going to be fun."

Carth hoped she was right.

------

"Duck!" Cortessa screamed, throwing herself to the ground. A charge burned and shrieked before it blew. Mission was thrown against the wall and she hissed at the pain, clenching her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut. T3-M4 let out a screech of alarm and his metal body was thrown down the hall and down a garbage dispenser. His frantic squeals echoed up to them before they faded away to nothing.

Carth looked up, gasping for breath, at the steaming, strewn Sith bodies. His side burned with pain. He groaned, shutting his eyes to compose himself. The stench of battle was overwhelming. Cortessa was moaning nearby, and they were moans of pain as much as moans of pleasure. Combat was her element. The exhilaration of it always seemed to put her in a 'mood' for a while. Carth had learned to keep his distance.

He got up and tapped her on the shoulder. "We need to keep moving," he said. "Day's wearing. It's past noon. We've spent a half hour in here. We need to get out fast."

She laughed, resting her head against the wall, tilting her torso forward. Her hair was damp with sweat and blood. The sight of her, relishing in the deaths she caused, was unnerving. Carth frowned.

"Come on," he said.

"Sure thing, doll," she said. "Give me a moment." She took a deep breath and staggered to her feet, giggling insanely.

"What the hell is the mater with you?" Carth cried. This wasn't normal.

Mission shifted uneasily beside him. Cortessa slapped the wall and kicked a corpse smoothly, sending it flying.

"I… erm…" Mission muttered.

Carth turned his eyes to her, feeling himself flush with anger. "You _what_?" he hissed, his voice dangerously quiet.

Mission bit her lip. "I may have… eh… given her some stim boosters in her… eh… caffa…"

Carth glared, gritting her teeth. His voice came out in an abrupt, harsh bark. "WHEN?"

"Look, it was accidental!" she cried. "I meant to give them to Bastila so that she'd loosen up! But Corty took it instead!"

Carth swore loudly, kicking the wall. Mission recoiled slightly.

"So that's what's been driving her nuts today?" he asked, turning his hard gaze back to Mission. The Twi'lek nodded solemnly.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "If I'd have known I…"

Cortessa's giggling shrieks grew louder. A door had opened and a Dark Jedi had her by the throat, his weapon pressed between her breasts, where he could easily slice her open and pull out her heart if he wished. The woman hiccupped giddily, hanging like a dead goose in his hand. Her feet dangled limply above the ground, swaying slightly.

Carth started, drawing his blaster and taking a shot at the Jedi's head. The Jedi lurched sideways, dropping Cortessa. Carth swore liberally.

He had fired a useless slug. It was like poking a rancor with a salami and pretending it was a sword. Cortessa crumpled on the ground, squealing with her laughter, her face flushed. The combined sexual tension of the day and the battle pitch had driven her to her state of delirium.

Carth was starting to hate her little fevered pitches. Did every tiny shock to her system have to drive her overboard? After he thought about it, he realized that she had been clean for years now. Being reintroduced to the feelings of stims and things like that probably set her off. She'd heal in time. Reassured, he swapped blasters and began firing again, his heart fluttering in his throat as the Jedi neared… dangerously close… his eyes burning…

Suddenly the Jedi choked and crumpled. Cortessa stood behind him, her knees pressed together and her toes pointed in to make her look like a twisted schoolgirl. Her face was flushed and sweaty and cross-eyed with her temporary retardation, and a bloody vibroblade was pressed to her cheek. She giggled once hysterically, before the force of it knocked her backwards, and she passed out.

------

**Author's Notes: **I deserve to be harassed for this chapter, I know. Cortessa's acting like a total whore. But it was because of Mission's stims. I know that a Sith Lord should be immune, and that she shouldn't go so nuts over it, but I decided on this for a reason: The Jedi Council tried to erase every trace of her past, right? They erased her immunities to everything, and most of her natural skills. If you really look, you see the broken remains of what Revan was, and once the Leviathan passes, the real thing will be put together.

Can't explain better than that. You'll have to deal, loves. And NO, Revan is not a lesbian. She's just a little desperate and insane.

**SilverSentinal21 **– I have to find all of them still, and yes this is Carth/Revan. No worries.

**Dante-Revan **– Like how do you suggest? The plot gets more twisted once they get into Davik's estate. You can trust me on that.

**FaintlyAlarming **– I agree wholeheartedly. Canderous is an interesting character, if given the chance.

**Amme Moto **– Yeah, I'm playing the game while I make this. It's tiring to get through the fluff and figure out how to insert the major stuff, but I get there. There are better things out there that do the same thing.

**Vila**** Skye **– That you are. XD


	17. Davik's Estate

**Savior Self **

_I wish I had something clever to say here. I'm burnt out. . _

_Taris part something. Sixteen? _

**Rated PG13 **

**Disclaimer: **George Lucas has the right to kick my butt, but suing me would just be taking it too far, don't you think?

**Savior Self **

****

****

Cortessa came to a few minutes later, long after the smoke had cleared and all supplies had been taken. She groaned, feeling awkward now that the drugs had worn off. Mission watched her guiltily, her headtails flushed purple with her humiliation.

"I'm sorry for what I did," she offered. "It was an accident."

Cortessa didn't understand. "What did you do?"

"I slipped some stim boosters into Bastila's drink, but you took them instead. It kind of made you loopy all day. Do you remember anything?"

"Janice Nall?"

"Right."

Cortessa moaned. "Great. Just great." She got woozily to her feet. Her head roared with pain. She swore and spat, pushing her sweaty, blood-stained hair from her face. A cold Dark Jedi corpse lay at her feet, her prized vibroblade jutting out of his back.

"Did I do that?" she murmured.

"Carth would have died if it weren't for you," Mission mumbled. "You did good, for a drunk lady."

Cortessa nodded, looking down at herself. Her clothes were bloody and mussed, and she wasn't even wearing armor. How had she survived? She bit her lip and looked for Carth, and found him fishing T3-M4 out of the garbage dispenser. The little droid's squeals echoed up to them, hollow in the endless pit.

Cortessa stood by him and helped him pull the diminutive droid up, grunting with the strain. Apparently his armor made up for his apparent size, because he sure as hell wasn't light. "Look," she gasped when T3's light came into view. "I'm sorry, for what I did."

"It wasn't your fault," he growled back, heaving the rope again. T3-M4 expressed his joy to be able to see them. The rope wobbled.

"Yes, it was," she muttered. "If I had been more aware about what people put in my drink…"

"Hey," he repeated. "It doesn't matter."

T3-M4 slammed against the grating on the side of the dispenser. He squalled and blatted his protests, and they paused to take a breath.

"We have to get out of here, soon, though," Carth said after a moment. "The Sith are bound to know what's up when their entire base goes offline and no one reports out of their shifts."

Cortessa nodded, glancing down at T3, whose metal body structure could be faintly seen in the gloom. "We almost got him," she said. "Another pull or two aughtta get 'er."

He nodded, taking a deep breath and grabbing the rope. "Ready?"

She nodded. They heaved a few times, and finally T3-M4's little head poked out of the dispenser. Blatting and whirring with joy, the droid rolled out onto the floor, where it plugged into a wall to recharge.

Carth kicked him. "No time, droid," he said. "We need to keep moving."

T3-M4 bleeped unhappily. He rolled down the hall to the elevator to override any lockdown sequences. Mission finished raiding the supply room and appeared with a very heavy-looking supply sack. She nodded at them, and Carth allowed her to remove her battle armor so the load would be easier to carry.

The door opened with a whoosh, and they stepped inside. Cortessa had to lean on Carth for support – her legs were wobbly and weak after her stim booster-induced delirium. She felt light-headed and sleepy. When they got home, she promised herself a long turn in the 'fresher. Bastila would slay her for it, but she didn't care. Bastila could screw the Wookiee.

Carth knew they would be a real sight: a blue Twi'lek, a bloody man, and a broken woman, so he led them through a complex series of alleyways, until they safely reached their apartment. Cortessa thanked him by clapping him on the shoulder, and vanished in the 'fresher. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Bastila began kicking the door, shouting at her to come out and face her.

"Go away, you upended Bantha burner!" Cortessa shouted. "For the love of the gods, it's like something spiky crawled up your –"

Zaalbar roared his protest for her obscenities, drowning out her insults. She sighed unhappily and closed her eyes, feeling the dirt and grime being pulsed off of her body. It was a good feeling. She relaxed, and soon found herself asleep inside the 'fresher.

When she woke again, Carth was swearing fluently in another language, beating a poor, innocent chair, and Zaalbar mumbled condolences. Bastila was on her knees, meditating, though her ears were flushed with agitation. Mission hovered nearby with Cortessa's clothes, eyes wide.

"Um," the Twi'lek mumbled. "Er… here." She thrust the clothes at Cortessa and looked away, biting her lip.

Cortessa dressed silently, watching her friends silently. "What happened while I was out?" she asked at last.

"Bastila had to save you from the 'fresher," Mission said. "You had closed yourself up in there and passed out. She said she could feel you in the Force and knew something was wrong."

Cortessa rolled her eyes. Jedi tricks and magic shows. If Bastila tried to flip that around, Cortessa would have none of it. She didn't believe in it. As far as she was concerned, if there was some great Force, it should have touched her life by now.

"It is true," Bastila said after a moment. "And I learned from Mission about what happened to you in the Sith military base. I am sorry that a joke on my expense happened to turn on you."

"What?" Cortessa shook her head, frowning. "I don't understand what you're talking about. What joke?"

Mission groaned. "Do I have to repeat myself? Did you really forget?"

Cortessa stared blankly.

Mission bit her lip, flushing with irritation. "Okay, look. I slipped some stim boosters into Bastila's caffa. But you drank it instead. It kind of turned you on towards everybody for a while until it finally started leaving your system, when you went into overdrive and had a fever pitch. You passed out a few times." Mission took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

Cortessa shook her head in disbelief. "So… who… _what_… what did I do?"

"You scared the crap out of Bastila," Mission said thoughtfully. "You flirted with Janice Nall, you swooned over Canderous Ordo, and you kept staring at Carth's pants."

Cortessa spat. "Disgusting."

"Well, at least you have good taste," Mission said. "Canderous isn't all that bad, once you take away the forty-some years on his life."

Carth glowered at the floor.

Cortessa brushed it off. There was nothing she could do about her drugged yesterday when they had a busy today. "Okay. Whatever. Look, do we have the launch codes?"

T3-M4 blatted happily, opening the miniscule supply tray in his torso. A small datapad stared up at them. Cortessa grinned, studying it.

"Perfect," she murmured.

Bastila shifted uncomfortably, leaning against the wall. She played with her ponytail absently, frowning to herself. Cortessa frowned at her.

"Bastila?"

Bastila jerked to attention. "How can I help?" she asked immediately.

Cortessa looked her over. "Something the matter?"

Bastila blinked. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. After a second she nodded. "I would like to know what happened after you crashed on Taris," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "I'm curious as to what you and Carth were doing before we all joined forces."

Carth spluttered, his face turning red, and he shot Bastila and Cortessa a glare. Cortessa grinned slyly. "What does it matter to you?" she said, and laughed hysterically. "No, really. We didn't do anything. We were looking for you."

Bastila frowned. "Yes, I realize that of course," she murmured. "But surely there was more to it than a simple search. I doubt there were any flashing signs pointing in my direction; yet somehow you found me."

"What? Were you hiding?" Mission asked.

She was ignored.

Bastila fixed her eyes on the wall. "You also avoided detection by the Sith, discovered that I was a Vulkar prisoner, became the dueling ring beacon, rescued Zaalbar from slavers…" (Here she went on about all the things Cortessa had done – from saving the baby Duros to winning the swoop race. Apparently Carth and Mission had filled her in on all of the previous things.) She took a deep breath and made a small conclusion. "That's quite a resume."

Cortessa shook her head. "Carth kept me in line," she said. "He wouldn't let me do some things because they would endanger the mission. And without Mission I would have never gotten into the Vulkar base. And Zaalbar… Zaalbar helped too." Although Zaalbar had remained in the apartment most of the time – Wookiees are a rare sight.

Bastila smiled. "Your modesty is admirable," she said. "But even though others helped, you were the catalyst for these events. When you were chosen to join this mission, I doubt any of us expected this much from you. A Jedi could have done such things, of course."

Mission and Cortessa snorted. Carth sighed.

Bastila continued as if she hadn't heard. "But only by drawing heavily upon the Force."

Cortessa wrinkled her nose, pressing her hands to her hips. "I think you're underestimating us non-Jedi," she said. Mission peered over at her in grateful agreement, and Carth bit his tongue; he looked like he was struggling not to laugh.

Bastila scowled. "Perhaps," she growled. "But the Force works through us all to some degree or another. There are some individuals outside the Jedi Order that we consider 'Force Sensitive.' It is obvious to me that the Force has been working through you."

Cortessa glowered, squaring her shoulders. She was a good inch taller than Bastila and made to look very imposing indeed. "I don't believe in your silly little Force ideas," she snapped. "So lay off, Princess! I ain't buying!"

Bastila frowned, folding her arms. "There is no other explanation for your great success, though I am not certain what to make of this discovery," she said as if she hadn't heard, turning her eyes away. "Perhaps if you weren't…" She looked Cortessa over, bringing in her womanly curves. "Well, if you were _younger_, the Jedi might take you in for training. But as it is…"

Cortessa bristled. "What are you trying to say?" she hissed.

Bastila shrugged. "I'm sorry," she said, though she didn't mean it. "I've overstepped my authority. I'm speaking of things that are best left for the Jedi Council. For now let's just accept he fact that you are… gifted."

"Tough luck on that one, Princess," Cortessa said stoutly. Mission giggled outright, and Carth had to look away to hide his grin.

Bastila tensed. "Hopefully between your abilities, my Jedi training, and the skills of our companions, we can find a way off this planet."

Cortessa kicked at her and the woman, yowling, locked herself in the bathroom.

Sighing, she turned back to the remains of the group. "Let's go find Canderous, then?" she murmured.

Carth nodded. Mission was but a trembling blue heap on the floor.

------

Canderous stood in a dark corner, dragging a cigarra, his grey eyes gleaming in the gloom. He grinned at the sight of Cortessa slinking up towards him, and he reached out. They shook hands, gazing firmly into each other's eyes, smiling.

"I knew you'd be back," he growled, looking her up and down. Carth stood in the background, glaring at them as he took a drink of water from their supply sack. He didn't feel that it was appropriate to admit, but he felt slightly jealous that the Mandalorian had such an affect on Cortessa.

Canderous continued, and Cortessa listened. "Neither one of us is getting off this planet unless we work together. Now, I know the Sith military base had a break-in. I know that it was you. I know you've got those departure codes I need. So what do you say? We join forces and I can get you inside Davik's base – and right to the Ebon Hawk. We can go right now."

Cortessa shook his hand. "Okay, let's join up," she said. "But how are we going to get me inside Davik's estate?"

Canderous grinned. "Davik's always looking to recruit new talent. I'll tell him how you won that swoop race and mention that you're interested in working for the Exchange. I'll say I brought you in so he could check you out. He'll have you stay at his estate for a couple days while he runs some background checks on you – that's standard procedure."

Carth was interested. "That's actually not a bad plan," he said, amazed. He looked Canderous over, fascinated. "I mean… wow. That just might work!"

Canderous smirked. "Of course it'll work," he said. "You can drag along that Twi'lek with you as a slave if you feel you need to."

Mission looked to Cortessa uncertainly.

"Do you want to, Mission?" Cortessa asked.

Mission shifted uneasily. "I suppose," she muttered. "Yeah. Sure."

Canderous nodded approvingly. "Alright then. Come on – I've got an air speeder nearby that will take us to Davik's estate. The sooner we're off Taris the better!"

------

The speeder was fast. Mission and Cortessa giggled insanely, grinning at the sky, letting their hair whip back in the wind. They threw their arms in the air, screaming and squealing, putting their feet up and enjoying the ride. Canderous seemed to be torn between amusement and irritation. Buildings swooshed by at an exaggerated pace, and other speeders looked like little colorful blurs on the landscape. The sun gleamed bright above them and the ground was a speck below them. A few morning stars glinted on the endless metal horizon.

It was breathtaking. Cortessa had to admit it was a pity that Carth couldn't see.

Finally a large, blue-and-white, dome-shaped building loomed ahead, its enormous glass sunroof leering at them like a sinister eye. A gigantic speeder parking lot was built along its rounded edges, and there were many speeders hovering there along the walkways. Canderous pulled in and his speeder gave a low, soft hiss. He looked back at the women in his speeder and smirked.

"Alright, ladies," he said. "Everybody out. Show's about to begin."

Giggling with the euphoria of their ride, the girls clambered out, onto the walkway, and leaned against the railing with a sigh. Cortessa turned her eyes out at the speeder-way, watching in amazement as the vehicles drifted by. She was a city kid at heart.

Canderous stepped out and shrugged his shirt into a more comfortable position. He walked up to one of the entry doors and pushed it open, allowing Cortessa and Mission to step in first.

The room was round and warm, with a carpet of actual grass, and the sun shining down on them through the glass sunroof. All around were naturally-grown, twisted logs that shaped actual chairs, and desks, too, among other things. Live iriaz and other wildlife wandered about, grazing or flying about the sunroof, and a few people stood a little ways away, chatting.

"What is this place?" Mission breathed, reaching out to touch a bird, which flew away in alarm.

Canderous nodded at a nearby Rodian. "This is home," he said. "Come with me." He led them to the opposite side of the room, winding them around the patches of wildflowers and ponds. Along the back wall was a row of doors. He picked the second one to the right, and it opened to reveal a pounding waterfall. Without hesitation, he stepped inside.

"I'm not getting wet, sorry," Mission said, folding her arms.

Cortessa tentatively reached out and stuck her hand through. There was no wet. It was a hologram. Gasping with shock, she fell through, and landed with a thunk inside the metal and glass elevator chamber inside. Canderous stared at her, smirking. Mission tumbled in after her and screamed with surprise, pressing her hand against the glass.

Her voice was hushed and breathless as she let out a mild stream of obscenities in her awe.

They descended. The skyscrapers of Taris rose and rose until they finally passed the line of view, and the elevator stopped smoothly. The door opened behind Mission and Cortessa, and they turned around. A long, glass tube thirteen feet tall and wide greeted them. All around the tube was an ocean's worth of water, teeming with Manaan-like wildlife.

Mission swooned.

Canderous shrugged. "Davik likes things to be grand," he said. He didn't voice his opinion aloud, but Cortessa supposed he found this habit obnoxious. She had to agree. As beautiful as it was, it was a bit… overdone.

They strode through the tube, and it felt as if they were stepping across the ocean floor. Cortessa felt her stomach give a sickening lurch, but she managed to calm herself. She had a great fear of water. It was just so deep and pitch… brimming with gods-knew-what underneath the surface… with undercurrents that would drag you under and hold you there until you died.

They reached the other side. Canderous brought them through several blue-and-white halls until they came to an enormous throne room. Cortessa looked around cautiously, and a door opened to reveal an aging man and two guards, one of which was the infamous Calo Nord. He grinned at them and shook her hand. His grip was cold and sweaty. She didn't like his touch.

"So, Canderous," said Davik in a fading accent, looking Cortessa up and down as if he was speaking to her rather than the Mandalorian at her shoulder, "I see you have brought someone with you. Most intriguing, if I do say so myself. You usually travel alone."

Calo Nord shifted uneasily, eyeing Canderous with unmasked dislike. "It's not like you to take on partners, Canderous," he said. "You're getting soft."

Canderous bristled, glaring back. "Watch yourself, Calo," he murmured. "You may be the newest kath hound in the pack, but you aren't top dog yet!"

Davik spoke with glee and he grinned even while he tried to pretend to be displeased. "Enough! I won't have my top two men killing each other – that's not good business. I'm sure Canderous has an explanation as to why he's not working solo anymore."

Canderous looked back to Davik and spread his hands. "This is a special case, Davik," he began.

Davik made a noise. "Ah, I see," he said. "She's pregnant."

Cortessa couldn't help but let out a sound between a scream and a cough. She stared, wide-eyed and shocked. Canderous cleared his throat, some color coming to his face, but he kept his composure, which was lucky.

"No. I ran into someone at the Exchange you might want to recruit. You may have heard something of their exploits already."

Davik squinted at Cortessa, who glowered back with distaste, squaring her shoulders. Mission bit her lip. "Ah, yes," the old man drawled at last. "Now I recognize you. The swoop rider that won the big swoop race. Very impressive… as was your display in the rather heated battle afterwards."

Cortessa was surprised. He watched swoop races? He was there when she cut Brejik to bits? But no matter. They had a mission. She smiled at him charmingly, setting back on her hips again, letting her torso tilt forward. "Good to finally meet you, Davik," she said pleasantly, letting her voice become soft and womanly. "My name's Cortessa. It will be a… _pleasure_."

Canderous sighed.

Davik was contented. "You know, Canderous was right. The Exchange is always looking for new talent. You could have a bright future with our organization. With the recommendation from Canderous – and a thorough background check – you could become part of the Exchange! Many would kill to prove themselves worthy of this honor!"

Cortessa smirked. "Well, _I_ did, at least," she said smoothly.

He laughed uproariously. "Excellent! Excellent!"

Canderous looked at Cortessa approvingly. She tossed her head, allowing a few teasing strands of her hair fall in her face. She shook Davik's hand again, smoothly, allowing her movements to turn to liquid. "Your offer intrigues me, Davik," she murmured in her silky voice.

Davik nodded, his eyes wandering up and down her body. She let him for now – there was no harm in winning him over. The man nodded. "Come with me – I will give you a tour of my operations. I'm certain you'll be most impressed."

------

**Author's Notes: **Hmm. HMM. 

Seems you people were PO'd at me because of my last chapter. I assure you I'm not going to be writing one like that for a while. Because she was drugged. Anyway… yeah. Yeaaaaah. This is the next chapter. Yay. Or something. Taris is almost over! OMGYAY.

**Dante-Revan **– Never did say Mission knew how to slip drugs. XD I'll think about doing something like that. Depends on how life goes for me.

**SilverSentinal21 **– I know. Cortessa was drugged. She wasn't supposed to act normal. But I'm sorry if I upset you. I know how touchy some people are about vulgarity.

**Amme Moto **– You know, I should. I'll think about it.

**FaintlyAlarming **– Glad you enjoyed it.

**Vila**** Skye **– Things'll get better by the time they reach Dantooine. Don't worry.


	18. The Slave Quarters

**Savior Self **

_Taris part seventeen.. _

**Rated PG13 **

**Disclaimer: **OMG GEORGE LUCAS I LUV U OMGOMGOMG!1111eleventy!11

**Savior Self **

Davik gave them quite the tour. The day wore on into nothing and finally he allowed them to retire. He didn't even question Mission's presence – apparently a Twi'lek was automatically passed a slave here. Disgusting. The place was huge; there were so many things to see, to touch, to do… entertainment centers, meeting rooms, enormous kitchens with life-size homes built out of actual pastries, hunting rooms with stuffed creatures posed in their natural environment like they should be shot again, game rooms with live animals for Davik to hunt down in his spare time, swoop rooms, sleeping rooms, stim rooms… whore rooms…

The place was too grand to be comforting.

Cortessa shrugged on her battle jacket, glancing at her companions, who stood in stony silence behind her. "Let's go," he said.

"Not tonight," Canderous replied shortly.

She frowned, wrinkling her nose. "Why not?"

He smiled at her. "It's too late now. You look dead on your feet. Get some sleep."

"I don't trust you while I'm asleep," she told him stoutly, folding her arms and putting her weight on one leg.

Canderous burst out laughing. Mission stepped away from him, afraid of being knocked over by his heaving chest muscles. The man shook his head. "You're something, kid," he said. "I'm not going to touch you. I have better things to do."

"Slave quarters," Mission chimed in not-so-helpfully.

Cortessa grinned at her warmly. "Okay, fine. But Mission's staying with me."

Canderous shrugged. "Whatever blows with you," he muttered, and left.

Mission hugged Cortessa and curled up into her bunk, letting her headtails dangle down to the floor. Cortessa smiled at her for a moment before she, too, curled up in her bed, and dozed off.

------

**Author's Notes: **Sorry. Short chapter.

HAHAHAA! GOT YOU! Okay. Sorry. Continuing now. XDD

------

The next morning broke slowly, drawing Mission gradually from her sleep for an hour span, and when she woke she felt heavy and drugged. She lay there limply, staring at the blue-and-white ceiling, her toes brushing the floor. Cortessa snoozed nearby, her chest rising and falling evenly, and Canderous stood at the window, gazing out at the passing air speeders in silent consideration.

"What's up?" Mission mumbled sleepily, pushing herself up and rubbing her eyes.

Canderous glanced back at her, his eyes hard, his mouth a flat, unexpressive line.

Mission stretched, yawning, and ran her hands over her skull, back and over her headtails. She massaged her temples and searched for her vest.

Finally, he decided to answer her. "Today we're breaking out of here," he murmured. "It's cold. And quiet. Something's not right. It's like a storm's heading, but there isn't a cloud in the sky." He sighed. "We need to leave soon."

She nodded slowly, feeling a sudden pang of anxiousness in her stomach. Dread. Fear. She felt her hands began to tremble and she gripped her clothing to avoid dropping it.

"Hey, don't be scared," the Mandalorian chuckled. "We'll be fine while we have your friend with us. She's got something about her. She won't let us down."

Mission glanced at Cortessa. The woman really _was_ extraordinary. She had the skill of an expert fighter and enough wit to pass around. She knew how to handle things. It was comforting to have her there.

Cortessa stirred then and let out a faint moan. She heaved a sigh and opened her eyes, letting the room come into focus before she sat up. She pulled on her vest and boots quickly and nodded to them. "Okay," she said. "Let's get going."

Mission blinked. "Already?"

Cortessa shrugged. "No sense sticking around," she said simply.

Canderous smiled and tossed her a cup. "Caffa dispenser near the door. Put something in your stomach or you'll never make it."

Nodding gratefully, Cortessa filled up her cup and took a long drink, closing her eyes. The warmth seemed to make her feel fuller somehow, and she voiced her thanks. Canderous shrugged. Mission complained about the taste of caffa.

They stepped into the hall and immediately, against all prior warnings, Cortessa opened the door to the room the next door over. The sight that greeted them was a grotesque one – a Twi'lek slave lay on the bed in a state of undress, and her leg was being fondled by a sharp-faced man with a hard look in his eyes. They both started at the interruption and the slave flopped off of the bed, landing with a thunk on the ground, where she lay still, gaping at the group at the door.

"HEY!" the man shouted, his face turning red. "What's idea, barging in here! Get out of here or I'll call the guards!"

The Twi'lek paused in the process of collecting her clothes. Her eyes widened. "The guards?" she gasped, tensing. Her headtails turned pale. "Slaves aren't allowed out of the slave quarters! I can't let them see me here!" She jumped to her feet, pulling her clothes to her chest, and ran, her bare feet making no noise on the ground as she turned the corner and vanished.

The man swore angrily, pushing his hair out of his eyes before he looked back to Cortessa, scowling. "Okay, great. You just scared off my date for the night, so you better explain yourself before I lose my temper and call the guards!"

Cortessa shook her head and drew her vibroblades. "You sure you want to do that, honey?" she said, licking her lips as if she could taste his blood already. She slowly twirled her vibroblade, allowing the light to catch its glinting reflection.

The man quailed. He sank to his knees, shocked. "No," he gasped. "Just go. I don't want any trouble with you."

She smirked and stepped up to him. She lifted a leg and pressed her heel to the small of his back, pushing him down to the floor. He lay there obediently and she stepped over him to root through his footlocker. When she finished, she knelt down in front of him, and his face was clammy and sweaty. She tapped his cheek.

"You're a smart boy," she murmured.

He trembled.

Slowly, she stood and left him there. Canderous gazed at her approvingly. "You have taste," he told her. "You're excellent."

She smirked at him, pulling a string on her vest. "It takes natural talent," she replied.

Mission shifted uneasily. "Can we get moving?" she muttered.

Cortessa shrugged. "We need some information. Most of these people are brainless. I had thought maybe one of Davik's esteemed guests might help us, but you see how that turned out." She thought about it for a moment and wondered aloud. "Maybe the slaves can help us… but I doubt they'll talk to me or Canderous. Mission… maybe you can…"

Mission gawked. "You want me to dress up as a slave?" she cried. Her headtails turned hot. "No way! I'm not going to pretend to be some skank just so you get your information! What do you think I am? A harlot?"

Carth snorted. "Yes, you're most definitely a strumpet."

Cortessa rolled her eyes. "No need to take it personally," she said. "You won't be a real slave. It's just an act. Don't tell me you can't act."

Mission couldn't resist an obvious jibe to her abilities. "Oh yeah, sister?" she growled. "Give me something kinky and I'll be a slave in five."

------

Mission felt nearly naked in her underwear (which had been craftily edited by Canderous himself). The air gently brushed against her skin as she strode barefoot down the corridor, shifting uncomfortably in her confining clothing. The slave quarters rose up ahead, a closed door that was left un-shined and unkempt. Slowly, reluctantly, she reached out and pushed it open, revealing the lovely room beyond.

Fountains splashed loudly by the wall, filling the salt baths, and a series of beds lined the wall. There were two doors to the far left, hidden behind two large, potted trees, and three massage tables sat in the middle of it all. Five slave women sat around, chatting and dragging on cigarras, and they glanced up with interest as Mission entered.

"Ah," said the first – a yellow Twi'lek with a soft, velvety face. She ran a hand over her milky white headtail, pursing her lips with consideration. "A new one."

A second Twi'lek leaned forward, pressing her palm to her green ankle. Her face was sharp and clever, wolfish and sly, and her eyes burned with some strange, wry amusement. "Oh, she's just a little sprout," she said, and her teeth clicked between her words.

The third slave was a human woman in the very peak of her life, just tasting the fruits of maturity. Her blond hair spilled down her pale shoulders and she gasped, fluttering slim fingers at her cheeks. "How horrible! You poor young thing!" She reached out a hand to Mission, but the first slave slapped her wrist.

"Shush, you. We can't shelter her."

The third slave bit her lip and looked away.

The fourth slave, another yellow Twi'lek, shot Mission a blunt look. "Well, we'll start by giving you the rules. First, cigarras are hard to come by. We don't hand them out to guests." She pointed a carefully-manicured finger in her direction. "You're young, so we'll take the guys asking for too much. But we won't protect you for long. Once a guy gets your headtail we're not keeping him from you. Got it?"

The final slave, yet another Twi'lek whose skin was a fresh pink, shook her head and reached out a beseeching hand to Mission. "Don't listen to her. She's at her time."

"Shut up, you!" she hissed.

Mission frowned. "What does she mean, get my headtail?"

They stared at her. "What?" said the human slave. She leaned forward to study Mission uncertainly, frowning. "You mean you don't know?"

"What do you think they enslaved you for?" scoffed the green Twi'lek. "To serve food?"

They all had a laugh at that one.

Mission shifted uneasily. She felt her throat catch with her nervousness.

"Oh, don't be scared," crooned the human slave, and stood to wrap Mission up in her arms. "We'll watch after you, our little chicklette. We promise."

"_You_ promise," the green Twi'lek murmured, pressing her cigarra to her lips and leaning against the wall.

"Lock the door, will you, new sweet?" crooned the first slave.

Mission obediently locked the door, and looked around anxiously. "So… uh… could you tell me some about this place?" she stammered at last, turning her gaze to the human, who seemed to be the most sympathetic.

The human nodded. "Oh, sure. What do you want to know, sweet?"

Mission bit her lip. "What about the Ebon Hawk?"

"Ooooh," the women said in unison, looking at each other uncertainly.

"We can't say anything about _that_," hissed the green Twi'lek. "We're just slaves. If Davik knew that we had anything on it he'd kill us!"

Mission frowned. "I'm not going anywhere," she pointed out. "Why not?"

The slaves looked at each other for a moment, shifting uneasily, and finally the first nodded. "Very well," she said. She leaned forward and gazed earnestly into Mission's eyes. "You can't tell a soul. Not even a client, you understand?"

"I get it," Mission said, nodding.

"Good." The Twi'lek sucked on her cigarra. After she had had a good pull, she nodded. "Okay. The Ebon Hawk is so fast, Davik's sure he could break the quarantine with it."

"But it's grounded until he gets the launch codes, or the quarantine ends," said the pink Twi'lek. She shook her head. "That's not going to happen any time soon, but he's working on it."

"And even if he did get the codes, the pilot's under restraint in the torture chamber," said the human. "The poor man. He was smuggling spices into his secret cache. That was it. Davik beat him and slapped him in the chambers." She bit her lip and a tear rolled down her cheek. "He's probably gonna die there, for what he did. He doesn't deserve it!"

The second yellow Twi'lek slapped her without restraint. "You lovesick slut!" she barked. "Who _cares_ if he dies? One less Hutt-slime to worry about."

The blond woman dissolved in tears.

The green Twi'lek shook her head and heaved a sigh.

The first slave shrugged. "I suppose he's the only one besides Davik that knows the codes to get to the hangar bay," she said. "It's been locked down tight – Lea tried to get in a while ago, and… well… she's… s-she's not here now."

The slaves sighed and simultaneously dragged their cigarras.

Mission sighed. "Where's the bathroom?" she asked.

They pointed out the door. "Down the hall," said the pink Twi'lek. "To the left."

Mission nodded, and slipped out of sight. Instead of going the bathroom, however, she crept stealthily back to Cortessa's room. As the door shut behind her, she grinned at her friend and nodded. "I got 'em," she growled.

"Good," snapped Canderous. "Now let's get out of here."

------

**Author's Notes: **I had fun with the slaves. Hahaha. This chapter actually was short. Next one will make up for it. I assure you. Sorry it took so long, though.

**SilverSentinal21 – **Ah, it's alright. No hard feelings. It was vulgar; I agree.

**FaintlyAlarming **– Thanks. Sometimes it's fun just to throw in some random improv. :D

**Amme Moto **– Thanks. I had fun.

**Dante-Revan **– You're predicting right. –winkwinknudgenudge-

**Vila**** Skye **– Lots o' huggles!

**Child-of-the-Dawn **– I've written more. My next update will be sooner, but right now I'm on the verge of making another chaptered fanfiction, so that'll be fun fun fun.

**Queenofinsanity **– Here's moremoremoremoremore.


	19. Narrow Escape

**Savior Self**

_RUN FOR YOUR LIVES OMG!_

_Taris part eighteen._

**Rated PG13**

**Disclaimer: **I'm a nerd, guys.

**Savior Self**

Mission stepped back into her street clothes and slipped a dagger inside her shoe. She twirled her blaster and nodded confidently at Canderous, who grinned savagely and led them outside. Cortessa sharpened her vibroblades against each other, searching for something to kill; her eyes were hawkish and thirsty.

They made it half-way to the torture chambers before they were ambushed by guards. Screaming a blood-curdling battle cry, Cortessa slashed through them all, leaving them as bloody, trembling heaps. Canderous watched with adoration, but Mission was obviously horrified. She had never seen Cortessa attack with such… prejudice. Cortessa hacked and slashed her way up to the torture room, where she beat the door down with the hilt of her vibroblade.

Canderous stood back, eyes wide with awe.

A man stood screaming and writhing in the chamber, his face screwed up as tears poured down his cheeks. "NOOO!" he shrieked. "STOP! STOOOP!"

Cortessa's battle lust dropped like a robe. Her eyes grew wide and soft and she sprinted forward to stop the torture process. The field went out with a flicker and the man sank to his knees, gasping for breath, tears welling up in his eyes. After he regained himself he gazed up at her with utter gratitude.

"Thank you," he gasped. He shook his head and wiped sweat from his brow. "You have no idea what it was like in that torture cage. I don't know how much more I could have taken before going mad."

"I know plenty about pain," Cortessa said coldly. "That's why I couldn't sit by and just let you suffer."

The man frowned at her. "You know about pain?" He looked her over. "You don't look like a fighter, or a slave." He paused, noting the scars on her neck. "Oh!"

She folded her arms. "Do you have anything legitimate to say?" she murmured.

He nodded, and began patting down his pockets. "Uh… I don't have anything to give you as a reward for feeing me…" he muttered, tossing a few scraps of paper onto the floor. Cortessa patiently picked up an ID card and looked it over.

A sallow-faced man stared back at her from the card; his eyes were ringed with dark shadows, but the eyes themselves burned with a wild mess of emotion and clever consideration. His large mouth was twisted into a half-smirk, and a mop of brown hair masked his right eye.

"Do you know this man?" she asked, intrigued. He couldn't have been more than twenty-three.

"Huh? Oh. Yeah. Friend of mine," the pilot said, digging around in his vest pockets now. "Jaq. Hell of a good flier. Clever, too."

Cortessa nodded and handed him back the card. It was expired, anyway.

"Look, I don't have anything," the pilot said, pocketing the card. "Unless you want a picture of Jaq on your wall." He snorted. "But I've got information that could be worth a fortune." He stressed that final word. "_Fortune_."

Cortessa stuffed her hands in her pockets. "Speak."

The pilot took a shuddering breath. "I used to be the pilot of the Ebon Hawk – Davik's flagship, but you know that, don't you?" He paused, as if waiting for an answer, but he was only taking a breath. "I know the codes to disable the security system protecting it. I'll load them into your datapad now." He held out a hand, and Cortessa passed him her datapad. He leaned against the wall and jotted away, slipping his tongue between his teeth. "There," he said after a moment, giving her back her datapad, which she inspected. "You can use those codes to steal the Ebon Hawk right out of its hangar." He grinned. "Sell it to the highest bidder, ransom it back to Davik – whatever you do, you'll make thousands!"

"I see," Cortessa said slowly.

"T-That's all I've got," the pilot said anxiously. "U-Unless you actually _do_ want that picture of Jaq… h-he'd be flattered, I bet."

Cortessa laughed. "No, that's fine," she said. "You can go now."

The man bowed. "It won't be long until Davik figures out I'm free. I have to grab Fay and get out of this base before that happens."

Cortessa was interested. "Fay?"

He nodded. "A slave woman. We… have history." His voice had gone quiet.

"Fetch her, and you can ride on our ship with us," Cortessa told him. "Grab anyone else who wants to come, too. Hurry – we won't wait for you."

"Y-You're serious?" the pilot gasped. "No hooks?"

"No hooks. No strings."

"Wow," the man muttered, and nodded. "Okay. Sure. I'll meet you at the hangar." He bolted, running as fast as he could. Cortessa slapped Mission on the shoulder.

"Cover him."

Mission stared. "You're kidding," she said flatly.

"No. Cover him. There are guards about."

Mission glowered but did as she was told, sprinting after the pilot.

Canderous shifted uncomfortably. "We got what we came for. We should get going."

Cortessa nodded and led the way to a consol outside the hangar bay. She paused, her fingers poised over the sensor board. She glanced over her shoulder nervously.

"What are you waiting for?" Canderous growled.

"I can't leave them," Cortessa muttered. "Give them a second."

"Something's not right. Hurry up."

Suddenly Mission rounded the corner with the pilot and slaves in tow, along with a flustered cook and a suspicious Exchange thug. Cortessa grinned at them and typed in the codes. The hangar bay door whooshed open and suddenly there was a jarring explosion, locking the door half-open and sending it up in smoke.

"Go! Go! Go!" Cortessa cried, shoving the group through the door and jumping after them. Another explosion sent her stumbling to the ground. On the opposite end of the bay, Davik and Calo were racing for the Ebon Hawk.

Davik was barking angrily; he lurched forward as some rubble clanked against the back of his purple armor. Calo heaved him to his feet.

"Damn those Sith!" Davik shouted. "They're bombing the whole planet! I knew they'd turn on us sooner or –" Davik spotted them and stuttered to a halt, even as a fuel banker blew up on the far side of the room. Rage flickered over his aged features. "Well, look what we got here! Thieves in the hangar!"

Calo aimed with a large repeater.

Cortessa smirked. "You don't have a problem with it, do you, Davik, baby, sweetheart?" she said, in an almost affectionate manner, though silky danger drifted beneath her words. The pilot was stammering and clutching the slave girl Fay tightly.

Davik scowled. "So you figured you'd just steal my ship for your get-away and leave me high and dry while the Sith turn the planet into dust?" He spat. "Sorry, but that ain't gonna happen!"

Calo smirked, flicking the safety on his repeater. "I'll take care of them, Davik." He looked Canderous over and licked his lips as if he could taste the Mandalorian's blood already. "I've been looking forward to this for a long time."

Davik grunted as another fuel banker blew up. "Make it quick, Calo. The Sith mean business. If we don't get to our ships and find somewhere safe, the bombs they're dropping will kill us all."

Before Calo could even begin firing, Cortessa was screaming, and ran towards him, blades shining. Calo swore, startled, and fired at her chest. It bounced off of her armor pointlessly.

"DAMN! DAMN, DAMN, DAMN!" he shouted, and, in blind panic, smacked her over the head with his repeater.

"You… you…" she growled, and grabbed his thick wrists. They dropped their weapons and grappled right there. Mission cautiously shot at Davik, but he died when some sheet metal was plunged into his head.

"DIE!" Cortessa screamed, beating Calo's head against the floor. She straddled his barrel-like chest, pinning his arms beneath her knees.

With unusual dexterity, he drew up his legs and kicked her in the back of the head. She gasped and released him; in turn he mounted her and punched her with prejudice. Blood spurted forth and she cried out desperately.

Canderous had had enough. He shoved Calo out of the way, and right into the path of a falling tangle of Durasteel beams. There was the satisfying crunch of bones, and the scream of dented armor. Calo was dead.

Cortessa was unconscious. Canderous lifted her with ease and held her in his arms, carrying her quickly up the ramp to the Ebon Hawk.

"Wait!" Mission gasped. "What are you doing?" She glanced back at their awkward company; the pilot was picking Davik's corpse for goods.

Canderous glanced back at her. "We're getting this ship fired up," he said flatly. "I'm getting your buddy to the medbay, picking up the rest of your friends, and getting you off this rock. Now."

Mission nodded, and urged the slaves onboard. The cook and the Exchange thug went last, and Canderous launched the ship, dodging and weaving them through the bombing fire of the Sith orbit. Canderous hovered them above the apartments and sent Mission out.

Mission jumped four feet down to the ground at a sprint, and ran into the apartment. A minute later, she was racing back, with Bastila, Carth, Zaalbar, and T3-M4 on her heels. Zaalbar grabbed the little droid and tossed it inside. T3 banged loudly and squealed angrily. Bastila leapt up smoothly and reached out a hand to Mission, who got a leg up from Zaalbar. The combined effort helped her aboard easily. Zaalbar climbed in, and Carth took a running leap onto the loading ramp. He missed. He did it again. He rolled inside and Canderous took off.

Carth and Bastila rushed to the bridge and knocked Canderous out of the pilot's chair.

"I'm driving," Carth barked. The pilot from Davik's estate huddled in the corner, watching with fascination as Carth drove them out of there.

As they pressed for hyperspace, Bastila cried out. "Plot a course for Dantooine! There's a Jedi enclave there where we can find refuge!" She reached past Carth and pressed a button.

Carth slapped her hand away and nodded at the pilot from Davik's estate. The man quickly tapped in the coordinates, overwhelmed by being in the same room as the beautiful Bastila Shan.

"It's not in your drive," the pilot said suddenly, flushing. "I-I… do you want me to enter it?"

"How long will it take?"

"Five, ten minutes."

"Then do it."

Suddenly the consol began beeping. Carth swore, punching in some commands. "Incoming fighters!"

Bastila whirled around and pointed at Canderous. "You! Quickly, to the gun turrets! You have to hold the Sith fighters off until we can get those hyperspace coordinates punched in!"

------

Even in hyperspace, they had a good five days before they reached Dantooine. Cortessa had gained consciousness the day after the attack, and lay in the medbay in silence. No one suspected her to be awake until she suddenly called out, "Where are my clothes?"

Mission had lost herself in her bunk. No one bothered her. Zaalbar seemed to be quieter than usual (which was amazing, since he was so quiet anyway), and he didn't eat as ravenously as he normally did. Canderous was actually rather happy, and spent his time fixing up Cortessa's swoop bike, which had gotten aboard the Ebon Hawk once Davik had bought it from the track for several thousand credits. It was in bad shape – the prototype accelerator was caught and jammed and would probably never work again, it was scuffed up, the motor wouldn't start, the shift was broken, and several other things had been smashed into unusable pieces. It took all of Canderous and Zaalbar's repair smarts to get the thing in good enough shape to have T3-M4 do some routine maintenance. Canderous had fun getting his fingers coated with oil.

Carth isolated himself in the cockpit, and only Cortessa and Bastila were allowed in, to check up on him, or make sure their plot was correct. Though he always protested, Cortessa would rest her hands on his shoulders and work her fingers to relieve the tension in him. He appreciated it, but it was far too friendly, and he didn't like it. Bastila, when she was in the cockpit, was either eerily silent, or overly talkative, going off on everything from the Vulkars to the Jedi.

Usually, he preferred her silence.

The pilot from Davik's estate, the slaves, the cook, and the thug all wandered around the ship daily; T3-M4 did rounds to make sure they weren't getting into trouble. The pilot visited the cockpit when he could, just to gaze at the controls, but often his lover would find him and drag him back.

The slave women were no longer allowed cigarras. The smoke made the entire ship uninhabitable. They resented it, and chewed on the unlit stubs, glaring at nothing in particular. The cook made their meals and got the synthesizer working, and the thug… the thug just kind of sat there stonily. Bastila promised them all that she would release them onto Dantooine when they arrived.

On the fifth day, after a silent, awkward breakfast around the main table, Carth sat at the controls and slowed the hyperspace down, keeping his arms folded as they drifted. Dantooine came into view and he tapped in the magnetic landing locks. Flicking on the intercom, he said, "Dantooine landing in approximately one hour, fifteen minutes."

Bastila, Cortessa, and the pilot appeared in the Cockpit. The pilot took his customary place in the corner, as did Bastila in her chair, and Cortessa against Carth's back.

"Dantooine," murmured Bastila wistfully, and pressed her fingers to the glass window. "It seems like a lifetime since I last set foot on her surface, though in truth it's only been a few months." She sighed and looked at Carth. "We should be safe from Malak here… for now, at least."

Carth frowned, unconvinced. "Safe?" he said incredulously. "Safe? You saw what his fleet did to Taris! There wasn't a building over two stories high left standing! They… they turned a planet into one big pile of rubble!"

Cortessa's hand found his shoulder again. He gritted his teeth.

Bastila folded her arms, confident in herself. "Even the Sith would think twice before attacking Dantooine," she argued smoothly. "There are many Jedi here, including several of the most powerful Masters of the Order. There is great strength within this place."

"Which would turn it into a target, even without you," Carth said stoutly.

Bastila flinched.

Cortessa spoke, surprising them all. "I think Carth has a point," she said. "We should keep moving."

"Hey, what about me and Fay?" cried the pilot from the back of the room. All eyes turned to him. "You said you'd drop us off! I'd rather be put smack in the middle of a mound a' Jedi before we tip off to some place like Tatooine or… o-or Nar Shaddaa!"

Bastila cocked an eyebrow. "We will _never_ turn over and grind to Nar Shaddaa," she replied, for once allowing her speech to falter to slang. "That place is a war zone by itself."

"Kind of like Taris," Carth said nastily.

"Look," Bastila sniffed. "We can't just keep running. Malak will find us eventually. We need to regroup; we need a plan."

Silence.

Bastila continued. "We can get supplies here and recuperate. The Academy is a place of mental and spiritual healing; something we could all use after what we've been through."

Carth gave in, seeing that Dantooine was so close anyway. "I guess you're right," he muttered reluctantly. "It isn't easy to witness the annihilation of an entire planet." _I would know_. Cortessa seemed to sense this thought and looked down at him earnestly. He cleared his throat. "I-I know Mission… I know Mission must be taking it pretty hard."

"What about you?" Cortessa murmured; her voice was so quiet no one else could hear.

Bastila didn't catch Carth's struggle. She smiled. "She will find a way to come to terms with her grief," she said. "She is stronger than she appears. We just need to give her time."

"We have all the time in the world, sure," the pilot wisecracked from behind.

"You, shoo. Go clean out the synthesizer." Bastila flicked a hand at him.

Scowling, the pilot marched off.

Carth glanced at the readings. "Landing T minus fifty minutes."

Bastila sat back in her chair and steepled her fingers. "So we wait."

------

**Author's Notes: **I loved this chapter best. Just because I added all these extra things in there that I like. Yay me. Yay me.


	20. The Jedi Council

**Savior Self **

_I'm sad because no one has caught my clever jokeee in the title. _

_DANTOOINE PART ONE! EVERYONE APPLAUD! _

**Rated PG13 **

**Disclaimer: **-disclaims-

**Savior Self **

Cortessa watched calmly as the ship touched down with a gentle bob. The engines hissed and powered down.

"We've landed," Carth said, and looked up at her. They shared a smile; an increasing occurrence. She loved it when he smiled – he seemed so much younger, so much warmer. It comforted her to know she could still make him smile.

Bastila shifted her robes and sat up straight. "Now I must go speak with the Council," she said smoothly, looking the two of them over disapprovingly. "I need their advice on… recent developments. After I have met with them, I will meet you outside the ship." She smoothed out her robes one last time before she stood and left.

"What's up her skirt?" Cortessa wondered allowed.

Carth sighed, but couldn't restrain a smile. "Cortessa… not _now_."

She frowned at him, folding her arms, but a smirk tugged at the sides of her lips and she couldn't hold her expression. She giggled, and pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle the noise. The pilot peered in.

"Are you two done in here?" he said. "Bastila came out looking something ornery."

"That's Bastila for you," Cortessa replied.

Carth laughed.

The pilot rolled his eyes and left.

Instantly the levity faded away. Cortessa bowed her head and left. Carth followed, pausing only to make sure the ship wouldn't come to harm while he was away. The slaves had already departed, save for Fay, for she was waiting for the pilot. The cook wandered past Carth and down the loading ramp without a word, and the Exchange thug was nowhere in sight.

"I'm glad we could help them off of Taris before they were blown up," Cortessa said softly.

Carth looked at her and smiled. "Hey, I know they didn't say it out loud, but I bet they really appreciate what you did. You saved their lives."

"I would have saved everyone else if I could have," she said quietly.

He pressed a hand to her shoulder. "You can't save everyone, gorgeous," he reminded her. "That's the hard thing about the galaxy."

"I know, but…" She shook her head. "It doesn't matter."

"It does to me," he murmured.

She ignored him, peering out the window. "Bastila's coming back," she said. "Let's go."

They stepped out the loading ramp and were greeted by Bastila. "I have spoken briefly with the Council," she informed them. She nodded at Cortessa. "They request an audience with you. We should go at once."

Carth scowled. "An audience with the Jedi Council? That's pretty unusual for someone who isn't even a Jedi. What's this about, Bastila?"

She gazed at him with mock sympathy. "I'm sorry, Carth, but I cannot tell you," she said. "All I ask is that you trust in the Force and the wisdom of the Council."

Carth shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I don't like being let out of the loop," he told her darkly. "But I'm not looking to get you in any trouble with the Jedi Masters."

Cortessa snorted. As if he could. She made her own choices, not him.

Carth glanced at her and shrugged, turning his gaze back to Bastila. "We'll try things your way for a while."

"Who said you call the shots on my behalf?" Cortessa said, folding her arms. "I don't like this."

Carth smiled weakly. Bastila glared.

"You will come," she said forcefully. "They are expecting us. I will lead you to the Council chambers. Come!" She grabbed Cortessa's hand and literally dragged her through the Academy. Finally, after a good fifty meters of pain, Cortessa relented and walked alongside her.

Carth walked behind her, though Bastila flashed him obvious signs that he should turn back. As Bastila got further and further ahead, they picked up the pace, when they were stopped by a Jedi, who thrust her arm outwards and shouted.

"You there!" she barked. "Padawan! Why are you not wearing the customary robes of the Jedi? Do you mock the honored traditions of our Order?"

Carth sputtered, shocked. Bastila continued on ahead of them; apparently she hadn't overheard the assault.

Cortessa pressed her hands to her hips. "I believe you are mistaken," she said silkily. "I am not a Padawan. I am Cortessa Blatt. I came here with Bantha – I mean… Bastila."

Carth snorted. "You're awful, Cortessa! Just awful!"

The Jedi ignored Cortessa's obvious insult. "Bastila? I have heard of her. They say she has already mastered the art of Battle Meditation. Remarkable in one so young, though I have heard she has a foolish pride of her own talents…" She paused, resting her hands on her hips. "But as for you… you claim you are not a Padawan?" She snorted. "I find this hard to believe. The Force is strong within you. I can feel its presence."

Cortessa blinked and frowned, looking at Carth. He shrugged, not sure what to say. Bastila had said the same thing. Perhaps she wasn't just blowing off steam. And it would explain why she was so powerful in persuading others… and doing well in combat.

The Jedi folded her arms. "If this is some type of jest, it is in very poor taste," she told them. "The Jedi Order is not a subject for jokes."

Cortessa snarled nastily, pressing her hands to her hips. "I am _not_ lying. I have better things to do than to waste my time teasing someone as worthless as you. Move aside. I didn't come here to be scolded by you, child."

The Jedi quailed. "No, I suppose you did not," she muttered. "I apologize." She cleared her throat. "Please forgive the abruptness with which I first greeted you. It was harsh, and perhaps unfair. My Master often warns me I must learn to control my emotions. I see I have much left to learn." She sighed. "I wish you a pleasant stay here on Dantooine. May the Force be with you."

They shared a courteous bow and continued on their way. They ran into Bastila, who glowered fiercely.

"Where _were_ you? You're late!" she hissed, and shoved them from behind all the way to the Council room. She locked Carth out and bodily forced Cortessa in front of the Council.

Cortessa sank to one knee and bowed her head with respect that didn't go all the way to her heart.

"Rise," said one.

She stood.

"Ah," said one, a male Twi'lek, with warm pink skin. He smiled genially, studying Cortessa with warm openness. "So you are the one who rescued Bastila. It is appropriate you are here. We have been discussing your rather… special case. I am Zhar, a member of the Jedi Council." He motioned with his hand, showing Cortessa the four other men there.

"With me are Master Vrook," Zhar said, and a leather-skinned man with a sour face stared at her, arms folded, "Master Vandar," Zhar continued, and a bouncy, small, green-skinned thing bowed to her, "and of course, the Chronicler of our Academy, Master Dorak." A brown-skinned man smiled at her; Cortessa liked him already. She liked all of them already, save for Vrook, with his accusing glare. Zhar cleared his throat, and nodded towards Bastila. "Padawan Bastila, I am sure you are already familiar with."

Bastila grinned at Cortessa brightly.

The words slipped past her before she could stop them. "Isn't the Jedi Council on Coruscant?"

Stunned silence washed over the Masters. Bastila gawked. After a moment, Zhar laughed. "Yes, the High Council of the Jedi Order is on Coruscant, but we are the Council in charge of the training facility here on Dantooine."

Bastila looked faint.

Cortessa nodded. "What do you want from me?" she asked.

Zhar smiled at her. He was comforting in his smile. "Bastila tells us you are strong in the Force. We are considering you for Jedi training."

Cortessa blinked. "Strong in the Force?" she said. She chuckled, shaking her head. "Uh, no. Sorry. I'm… no."

Bastila bit her tongue.

Vrook raised his eyebrows, glancing at Zhar. "Master Zhar speaks out of turn, perhaps. We need indisputable proof of your strong affinity to the Force before we could even consider accepting you for training."

Bastila sputtered. Some of Cortessa's stubbornness was rubbing off on her. "Proof? Surely the entire Council can feel the strength of the Force within this woman… and I have already related to you the events that took place on Taris…"

Vrook glared at her and jabbed a finger in her direction. "Perhaps it was simple luck."

Cortessa folded her arms. This was all getting a little wearying.

Zhar put a hand on Vrook's shoulder. "We both know there is no luck. There is only the Force. We all feel the power in Bastila's companion, though it is wild and untamed. Now that this power has begun to manifest itself, can we safely ignore it?"

"I'm right here!" Cortessa chirped.

Dorak restrained a chuckle. Vandar gazed at her approvingly; Vrook glared.

"The Jedi training is long and difficult, even when working with a young and open mind. Teaching a child is hard. How much harder will it be for an adult to learn the ways of the Jedi?"

"I'm not interested," Cortessa said, clasping her hands behind her back. "I'm quite content being normal old me. Vibroblades and ale, thanks. Holy water makes me sleepy, and I don't deal well with killer beams of light."

Bastila made a noise of utter horror.

Dorak looked bowled over. "But you are a special case!" he gasped.

Cortessa frowned, folding her arms in front of her chest. "Look, what if I don't believe in your 'Force' mumbo-jumbo?" she said, cocking an eyebrow. "What _then_?"

Bastila looked faint. She weakly sat down in a nearby chair, her hand clutched to her heart.

The room was hanging in silence. Vrook looked absolutely furious; Vandar was stunned; Zhar was torn between morbid amusement and confusion; Dorak looked ill.

"You… don't believe in the Force?" Vandar murmured at last.

The Masters looked at each other, eyes wide.

"This… this is an interesting development indeed," Dorak mumbled at last. "Uh… mm… W-We need to… think about this."

Vandar cleared his throat. "We should discuss this matter more fully in private. Bastila, you and your companion must go. This is a matter for the Council alone."

Bastila stumbled to her feet, obviously dizzied. "As you wish, Master Vandar," she said breathlessly. "We shall return to the Ebon Hawk and leave you to your deliberations." She turned and gripped Cortessa's hand with her own. Her fingers were pale and trembling, but held her with an iron grip. Cortessa gasped in pain as Bastila's nails dug deep into her skin.

The Padawan dragged Cortessa out of the room, and Carth stared at them.

"You alright?" he asked.

"S-She… UGH!" Bastila sputtered and released her companion. "You… she…"

"I told the Council I didn't believe in the Force," said Cortessa smoothly, smiling.

Carth gaped for a moment, shocked, but it quickly passed and he burst out laughing. Bastila bit her lip.

"It is _not_ a humorous matter!" she cried.

"Why? Does it ruin your karma, Bas?" Cortessa said, smirking.

Carth was still laughing.

"You – I – they – we – I – you…" Bastila sputtered. Finally she just gave up and, with a vicious glare, she marched to the Ebon Hawk.

Carth clapped Cortessa on the shoulder, catching his breath.

"It's alright, doll," Cortessa said, smiling at him. "Do you want me to apologize?"

"Just be who you are," he said between gasps for breath. "That's all anyone wants."

------

**Author's Notes: **Short chapter, I'm sorry. I figured that was enough, though. Next one will be much longer. But: WOOOOO! DANTOOOINE! YAAAAAAAAY!

Sorry for not replying to all last time. I forgot. It was an early-morning upload, you know? I promise to get some more KotOR I fanart out there. I just love writing KotOR II stuff because the characters are so colorful and easy to mess around with. Trust me, I still love KotOR I and I will get some stuff out there.

**Dante-Revan **– You are so right. I'm glad you liked the little extras I added in there. They made me happy, too. Your comments mean a lot for me, and I'm sorry that Davik's death wasn't… gory enough. XD

**SilverSentinal21 **– Really? I think I may have seen it once before, but I can't reply. The idea just came to me and I was like, 'why not?' So here we are.

**Amme Moto **– Yeah. They would have added fighting force, right?

**FaintlyAlarming **– Yes it does.

**Dark Lord Daishi **– Hey, there. I won't give away her alignment, but I assure you it will be fun.

**Ilea Dreike **– Yeah, I liked the Atton cameo. I'm surprised no one else really commented on it.

**DarthNexus9000 **– Thank you.


	21. To Become a Jedi

**Savior Self**

_-hums Star Wars theme song-_

_Dantooine part two_

**Rated PG13**

**Disclaimer: **I can't think of anything clever to say.

**Savior Self**

The afternoon passed without incident. Canderous continued working on the swoop bike with T3-M4, Zaalbar and Mission were terrorizing the locals, and Carth was reading up on something or other in the cockpit. Cortessa made herself comfortable right in the way of Canderous's work.

"Do you want something?" the Mandalorian growled at last, unable to ignore her any longer.

She smiled. "I was wondering if you had any interesting stories," she said.

Canderous raised an eyebrow. "You want to hear tales of my exploits? Of the wars I've seen and fought, the enemies I've seen die by my hand?"

Silence.

He smirked. "Sure, I'll humor you." He thought about it for a moment before he began. "My name's Canderous of the Mandalorian clan Ordo. I've been fighting across the galaxy for 40 of your years." Cortessa's eyes grew wide. He laughed. "Yes, I'm that old. But not to our kind, only to yours. In any case, let me continue. For my people, it's the honor and glory of battle that rules us. It's through combat that we prove our worth, gain renown and make our fortunes."

Cortessa frowned. "Is that why you worked as a mercenary?"

He thumped her shoulder gently. "I'm getting there. Times have changed now. The Mandalorian clans have been scattered across the Outer Rim, the Republic is in decline, and the Sith Empire rises to take its place. The clans as they were aren't a threat, but the galaxy still fears us." He laughed wryly. "People think we war out of spite, or bloodlust. They don't understand, and fear that." Cortessa shook her head sadly. He was warmed to know someone could relate, even slightly. He continued. "We only wanted the challenge of battle, and glory from it – win or lose. And we lost." He grinned to himself.

Cortessa laughed. "Yeah, you did."

He nodded. "But now I have no real challenges. Crushing Davik's enemies and the pathetic gangs in the Lower City of Taris could not be considered the most glorious of tasks."

"I can imagine," she said dryly.

He chuckled. This woman had some awesome traits, he had to admit. He sighed, though, and leaned back against the wall, shaking his head and pushing his hair from his face. "When I think of the battles I've fought… the thousands I've killed… the worlds I've burned… I weep for my past." _Whoops_. What was it about her that got people to cough up their secrets so easily? He had seen the pilot do it before – but him? The Mandalorian Canderous Ordo? Certainly not. He suddenly stiffened, deciding to bail so that he could think about it. "We'll never speak of this again. We've got work to do, so let's get to it."

She nodded. "Very well, Canderous. Thank you for speaking with me."

"You're welcome. Now scoot. You're sitting on the power converter."

She alighted loftily and strode out. He watched her back melt from view and shook his head again, as if to clear it. He wasn't sure how he felt about her company yet. He would have to think about it.

T3-M4 screamed with alarm and backed up against the wall, and the power converter burst into flames.

------

Carth woke to the sounds of Bastila's rushed escape. He sat up in his bunk, focusing over the sounds of Canderous's heavy breathing. Bastila was scrambling about, knocking over cans and chairs as she hurried. Slowly, Carth got to his feet and crept into the main area, where she was hastily stuffing down some breakfast. She saw him and choked, her eyes wide.

"C-Carth! I… good morning," she stammered between her fingers. She looked around for a moment, flustered. "I…"

"Are you okay?" he asked gently. Her face was paler than usual and her hair was a ratty mess. Flour coated an entire meter of the floor.

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry," she said. "I'll take care of it when I get back. I have to see the Council. T-Tell Cortessa that… uhm… The Council wants to see her… I… goodbye, Carth. Uh… Goodbye." She shook his hand and bolted out the door, stumbling over her own feet.

Carth frowned after her. "Wonder what her problem is," he said to himself, before he began cleaning up her mess. He shook his head. Who knew someone like Bastila could make such a clutter?

Something smashed in the girls' bunkroom. He looked up, brows furrowed with worry, as Cortessa scrambled out and slipped on some of the flour. She was sent sprawling to the ground.

"DAMMIT!" she shrieked, raising a white, trembling hand to her hair and running it through, leaving a streak of discolor in it.

Carth moved over to her and helped her to her feet. He looked her over and brushed her off. She stared at him with wide, dark-rimmed eyes, and gently pushed him away.

"I-I'll be alright, really," she muttered. "Is there anything to eat?"

"Bastila probably ruined it," Carth said. "But go ahead."

She looked, and found a pastry to jam into her mouth. She sat down in a seat and shuddered; her eyes darted back and forth across the room.

"You okay?" he asked.

She jumped. "What? Oh. Yeah. I'm fine."

He sighed. "This morning's getting stranger by the minute," he muttered. "First Bastila comes out looking like she saw a ghost, and now you."

"Bastila? Really?" Cortessa stared up at him with wide eyes.

He looked her over. "Well, Bastila did mention that you should go to the Council chambers before she left. It's no doubt urgent, so you shouldn't keep them waiting." He paused. "I'm sorry." He paused again. "Are you okay?"

She shook her head, losing her face in her hands. "I had a rough night," she said; her voice was muffled by her palms. Her index fingers rose to her hairline and massaged her temples, and the knuckles of the rest of her fingers rubbed against her eyes.

Carth rested a comforting hand on her shoulder and brushed some of the flour out of her hair. "Well, I can't say I blame you," he said quietly. "I… I haven't exactly been sleeping well myself. Here I thought things would get better once we escaped Taris." Watching the planet blow up beneath him had reminded him strongly of Telos. It brought back so many memories… so many undressed wounds that flashed raw over his mind. The pain, the loneliness, the hopelessness… Cortessa had removed the pain for a while, on Taris, once he had started trusting her. But now… it was just… gone. Just… gone.

Cortessa gazed up at him earnestly and pressed a hand to his chest. "You going to be okay?" she murmured softly.

He looked away, brushing her hand off of him. "Yeah. I'll be fine."

Cortessa nodded, turning serious. "Did Bastila say anything else?"

Carth glanced at her. "No, she didn't. She didn't seem well. And for that matter, neither do you. Are you alright?"

"You asked me that already. I had a rough night, is all." She looked away, hugging herself. She looked like she needed someone else to hug her, but he wasn't about to do it. "Let's just… go. I'll get this flour out of my hair and… wash my hands."

He nodded, feeling a little broken. "You got it."

She wandered to the sink and stuck her head under. Minutes passed and she seemed to relax as the water cleansed her face and hands. The color returned to her skin. Carth watched silently for a while, before an idea struck him.

"Uh… hey… Cortessa?" he said uncertainly.

She tossed her wet hair back, splashing him. Her playful nature was returning. She looked back at him, licking the water from her lips. To his utter horror, he felt his heart leap to his throat. "What?" she asked; the volume had returned to her voice, and it was smooth again, rather than shaky.

He felt heat creep up his face. _What's my problem_? He cleared his throat, giving his head a firm shake. "Uh… B-Bastila never said you… had to go alone this time," he muttered, looking at his feet. "Maybe I could come with you."

"Why would you want to do that?"

"Uh… I don't know… I guess… because you didn't look so well this morning."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Neither did you."

"Please?"

She shrugged, smiling. "Sure. Canderous and Mission can tag along, also, if they want. I'll ask them."

Carth sighed and, reluctantly, he nodded.

------

Cortessa walked in silence, her arms swinging loosely at her sides. Her strides were long and confident, and her twin vibroblades glinted against her thighs. Her wet hair had been pulled back tightly into its customary braid, but a few strands still broke loose and fluttered in the wind.

Canderous walked solemnly behind her in his tattered, old clothing, clapping his repeater in his open palm. Though he snarled and glared at people, he didn't intend to shoot anyone. He saw no point in it.

Mission was dressed in her grey vest and pants again, and walked right on Cortessa's heels. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but she actually seemed to be in a good mood. No one had talked to her about the destruction of Taris – Bastila had firmly insisted the matter remain untouched. Now the Twi'lek tried to mimic the sway of Cortessa's hips (and she failed miserably).

Zaalbar ambled silently behind them all, his shoulders hunched as if to defend him from the gaze of others. He studied his surroundings with awe, but kept his comments to himself.

Carth was wedged between the Mandalorian and the Wookiee. Cortessa couldn't see him, and didn't care to. He'd been a little too… close lately.

The Enclave rose above them and engulfed them. Cortessa led the group deep to its core, to the Council chambers. At the door, she turned to face her friends.

"I don't know what they want to talk to me about," she said. "But I want you guys to stay here."

Zaalbar mumbled something about how unhappy he was, and that their lifedebt was being mistreated. Mission nodded solemnly, and Canderous said something about how the Jedi needed to shove something or other up something else. Carth frowned at her and studied her desperately.

"I'm sorry, Carth," she said, grasping his hand. "If I could let you in, I would."

Canderous thumped Carth on the back. "Don't be a baby. The woman can take care of herself."

She smiled at the Mandalorian. "Thank you, Canderous."

Carth fell into a morose, sulky silence.

With a bow, she twirled through the door and left them there alone.

------

Cortessa stumbled out some time later, looking ill. Carth caught her before she fell, wrapping an arm firmly around her waist. The closeness of her burned through his jacket, and he quickly handed her off to Canderous.

"Corty!" Mission cried. "Corty, are you alright? What happened?"

"They won't listen to me," Cortessa moaned, burying her fast in Canderous's chest. "They're going to make me a Jedi. A _Jedi_. I don't know… I-I'm scared." She shook her head.

"Why you? What did you do?" Carth asked.

"They say the Force is strong in me," Cortessa said, and, despite the sincere worry and pain in her voice, she could still find something wry and sarcastic to say to spite it all. "I don't get it. Maybe they mean I have big jugs or something."

Carth couldn't help but check.

Mission laughed. Canderous rolled his eyes. Zaalbar asked, "What are jugs?"

"Nothing, Big Z," Mission said. "Don't worry about it."

"I don't want to be a Jedi," Cortessa said. She groaned. "This _sucks_!"

"Well, it will make you stronger," Canderous said. "And you don't have to obey their rules so far as I say."

Cortessa again studied the Mandalorian with appreciation. "Thank you, Canderous," she murmured.

He smiled and ruffled her hair like an affectionate father.

Carth flushed with sudden, alien jealousy. Mission stared at him and he looked away, coughing. He didn't know what was the matter with him, but he had to get it settled out.

"So… uh… what are they going to do to you?"

"She cannot say," said Bastila silkily, and pushed Cortessa aside. She had materialized out of nowhere, and Carth cried out with surprise. "And that is all that matters for you, Carth. If you ask any more questions I will see to it that the Council… deals with you."

Carth glowered and bristled, but embraced the barb. It would give him something else to focus on for a while, rather then Cortessa's teasing hips.

------

For two months, Cortessa was first to rise and last to bed, and spent all of her days at the Enclave, training. When the crew did see her, she looked a mess, with her hair in disarray and her face sallow. Her eyes were hollow and wan, and her hair didn't shine. Her skin had toned down several shades.

"You're not well," Canderous said one day, peering at her over the breakfast table. "You've got the pilot in a twist over it, and the kid won't stop pestering me."

Her voice was soft and she sounded absent-minded. Her eyes were out of focus as she gazed at him. "And?"

"Do something about it."

She groaned. "Like _what_? They won't listen to me. Besides, I'm learning all kinds of stuff… I'll be better in a while."

"No, you need a rest, or something," Canderous said firmly. "I don't care, but that pilot will have my head if I don't get you to do something."

"Why doesn't Carth bitch at me himself if he's that upset about it?"

"He knows you won't listen to him," he said. He laughed. "I don't know when I became the mediator, but here I am."

She sighed, pushing her bangs from her eyes. "I suppose I could use some rest," she said. "I don't know why he cares, though."

"I've never seen anyone pine like he does," Canderous told her, spreading out some datapads and glancing at them a few times before he looked back up at her. "He's worse than a teenager, sulking around in that cockpit all day until you come back. I don't care what you do to him, but I can't have him doing this, so stop it."

"Why would he sulk around just because I'm gone?"

"Who cares? Just fix it. Talk to him, or something. I can't take it anymore."

She smiled at him wolfishly. "Why does it bother you?" she asked.

Canderous shifted uncomfortably. "Wakes me up in the middle of the night when he comes back to bed," he said quietly. "It doesn't matter what I think, though. The Twi'lek's getting worked up about the two of you, also."

"Her name's Mission," Cortessa said. "And what about her?"

"She worries about you and fawns over him. Say's he's cute, or something like it. I can hardly stand it because all she talks about is you guys, even when she's working on the bike. Nearly caught my hand in a breaker because she wasn't paying attention."

"I'm sorry I'm causing so much trouble."

He smiled. "Don't worry about it," he said gently. "Just do something about them. I can't stand it."

She nodded. "I'll do my best." She massaged her temples. "I have a meeting with the Council today. If I can squeeze in a few words, I promise I'll try and get a break."

"If you can't _squeeze_ in a few words, I'll _pound_ some into their skulls."

"Oh," she said, and laughed.

------

Cortessa picked her way slowly up to the Council chambers, deliberately taking her time and pausing to greet every person she saw, even the Jedi who had gotten after her about her robes when she had first arrived. However, she couldn't procrastinate forever, and she finally arrived at the foot of master Zhar.

The pink Twi'lek smiled at her and shook her hand. "Welcome back, apprentice," he said warmly. "I was beginning to worry about your absence."

"I apologize, Master," she said silkily, bowing.

"It is all in the past, and you are forgiven," Zhar said. "I have called you here for a reason."

"I understand that I need more training, Master," she murmured. "But I would like to discuss something with you."

"In a moment, my apprentice. In a moment," he said. He paused, taking a deep breath. "In all my years, I have never seen one who has mastered the initial training so quickly. You have done in weeks what many cannot do in years."

Cortessa flushed with pleasure. "Thank you, Master."

He shook her hand, and when he pulled back, she found gripped in her palm the lens and beginning pieces of a lightsaber. She gasped, surprised, and gazed at Zhar with confusion. He smiled at her, and nodded. "I am honored to welcome you fully into the Jedi Order."

"What… does…" She cleared her throat, stunned. "Er… D-Does this mean that I have graduated, Master? May I… may I leave?"

He shook his head. "Soon your apprenticeship will end and you will be granted the title of Padawan, the lowest rank of those within the Jedi Order. Yet first you must prove yourself worthy."

She frowned. "And how do I do that?"

"Peace," he said smoothly, and continued. "In the traditions and customs of our Order, as handed down from Master to pupil for a thousand generations, you must successfully complete three tests before you can earn your place among the Jedi."

She sighed. "Great," she muttered, but quickly corrected herself. "Please expand on the concept of these tests, Master. I wish to learn."

He was proud of her. She could tell by the way he seemed to stand a little straighter. "These tests," he said, "will see if you have truly mastered the training you have been given, both mental and physical. Upon completing these tests you will pass from apprentice to Padawan, and join the ranks of the Jedi."

"Oh, _goody_," she said; the sarcasm suddenly slipped past her lips uncontrollably. She gasped.

Zhar grinned, but hurried to mask his amusement. He knew all too well that she didn't really enjoy her position, but put up with it, for reasons no one, including herself, was entirely sure of. He shifted his robes and nodded at her. "First I will test your knowledge of the Jedi Code," he told her. "These tenets must always guide your actions, in everything you do you must always be conscious of their wisdom."

She bowed.

"You must prove you have a Jedi's understanding of the Code. Return when you feel you are ready for this challenge."

"I am ready now, Master."

"Are you certain? Patience is important, apprentice."

She gazed up at him with hard, icy eyes. "I'm sure."

"Then we shall begin." He cleared his throat. "Complete these fundamental precepts in our Order: There is no emotion…"

_There is PMS_. "There is peace," said Cortessa.

He smiled, nodding. "There is no ignorance…"

_There is stupidity_. "There is knowledge."

"There is no passion…"

_There is love_. Cortessa took a deep breath. "There is serenity."

Zhar looked her over appreciatively before he continued. "There is no chaos…"

_There are nukes that blow up worlds. No _crap Cortessa bit her lip. "There is harmony."

Zhar sensed her anger, and spoke his words with a little more strength. "There _is_ no death…"

_There are only smoking corpses… empty shells. _Cortessa felt herself tense. "There is the _Force_," she managed to say, and took a deep breath, clearing her head.

Zhar frowned, sensing her frustration. He nodded. "You have learned your studies well," he offered. "It will not be long before you are a full member of our Order."

"Thank you, Master."

"But first you must pass the second test, and learn about the most prized possession of a Jedi, the very symbol of our Order: the lightsaber." He motioned towards her hand, which still tightly clenched the lens, power cell, and other necessities for a lightsaber. She opened her palm and stared at them, brows drawn tightly together.

"Master Zhar…?"

"_Shh_," he said. "Let me finish. The lightsaber is the traditional weapon of our Order. It is a symbol of a Jedi's skill, dedication, and authority, and each lightsaber is as individual as the Jedi who wields it."

Cortessa bit her lip. _Except that the Jedi want to make everyone mindless, identical drones_.

Zhar continued. "The blade is made of pure energy, focused by polished crystals in the hilt. As the second test, each Jedi must construct her lightsaber with her own hands." He looked down at her seriously. "And now it is your time. Speak with Master Dorak and he will guide you through the choosing of a crystal."

------

**Author's Notes: **Proud of the job I did here. Yessir. I don't really have anything else to say about it. Sorry the updates are taking so long. :(

**Child-of-the-Dawn** – I liked how Dorak and Zhar appeared more human in my story, rather than silent, stuffy Jedi like in the game. I'm glad you appreciated it, too.

**FaintlyAlarming **– c",)

**Ilea Dreike **– What do you mean by that?

**Dark Lord Daishi **– I'm glad you liked that part. I was hoping someone would note it.

**Amme Moto **– Yeah. It's going to be a nightmare for me. XD

**SilverSentinal21 **– I wish I could reveal the ending to you to consol you, but I can't. It would just ruin it. This entire thing is leading up to a snap scene. It's going to be awesome.

**Odious Feline **– I enjoy Cortessa's character, too. She's really fun to bat around in this story.

**DarthNexus9000 **– We'll have to wait and see.

**Queenofinsanity **– If you did, I apologize. I forget things easily and I've been under the weather. Your support means a lot – thanks for sticking by me so far.


	22. The Final Test

**Savior Self**

_Dantooine part three._

**Rated PG13**

**Disclaimer: **I've been listening to a Russian pop/rock song for FOUR days straight. Give. Me. A. Break.

**Savior Self**

Cortessa made her way up to Master Dorak, her arms clasped respectfully behind her back. She bowed to him, and he bowed to her, and they made nice for a moment before he asked what she wanted.

"I wish to discuss something with you, Master," she mumbled.

He smiled knowingly. "Ah," he said. "You have come, young apprentice, at Master Zhar's bidding. He sees great promise in you… as do I. The time has come for you to choose the color of your lightsaber. This color also reflects your demeanor and position within the order."

Cortessa rested her hands on her hips. "Okay," she said.

He explained to her the different colors and positions before he started her on a quiz. "A woman and her small child are beset by a desperate-looking group of thugs. They are menacing her with weapons and she screams for you to help. What do you do?"

"Gut those thugs so badly their souls will be too broken to reach hell," Cortessa said.

Dorak was stunned. The other Council members stared with unmasked shock.

"Right, then," Dorak said slowly. "On to the next question." He took a deep breath. "You are in combat with a Dark Jedi allied with the Sith. There is a pause in the combat. What do you do?"

"Gut him like a fish and feed him his own organs while he convulses above death."

Dorak winced. "Yes, I figured as much," he said with a hint of resentfulness. He sighed and continued. "Now for the next question. There is a locked door and your goal lies on the other side. What do you do?"

Cortessa thought about it and shrugged. "Pick the lock. If it's magnetic, bomb it to bits."

Dorak nodded thoughtfully. "I think I'm beginning to see a pattern here, apprentice. I have a feeling about what you would be best at. But first, the final question. You are the head of an Enclave on a contested world. The Dark Jedi have infiltrated and are causing unrest across the planet. What do you do?"

Cortessa raised an eyebrow. "Hunt them down," she said. "Kill every last one."

Vandar swore under his breath. Vrook stared at him with shock.

"This day just keeps getting…" Vrook muttered, and massaged his temples.

Dorak shifted uneasily. "As I suspected," he said softly. "You would be most suitable as a Jedi Guardian." He glanced at her. "What color and path do you believe yourself most suited to, apprentice?"

She shrugged. "Don't care," she said smoothly. "Give me the blue crystal. It's just as well."

"This is a serious advancement, apprentice."

"Yeah, okay. I'll be a Guardian, then. Protector of the peace."

Dorak handed her the blue crystal. "Here. Go speak with Master Zhar again and he will instruct you in how to construct it."

She bowed and studied the crystal. It was actually quite lovely, all shiny and clear. She gazed through it for a moment before she brought it to Master Zhar, pressing it into his palm. "There," she said. "I have my crystal."

Master Zhar smiled at her. "Good. Now that you have selected your crystal, we shall begin the construction of your lightsaber."

"Finally," Cortessa said, fishing the pieces from her pockets. "Just tell me what to do."

------

Carth shifted impatiently in his seat, gazing out at the door of the enclave. The barb he had embraced that had been Bastila's secrecy had begun to fester, and now he was feeling impatient and wary. What _was_ Cortessa doing all day? What was wearing her down? Why? What secret mission was the Council sending her on? Why? Where? How? With whom? When?

Oh, yes. The barb was definitely festering.

Then Cortessa strode out of the Enclave with a glowing blue lightsaber. Carth started so violently he knocked his empty caffa over. He swore so loudly, Canderous actually came to check on him.

"What's your problem now?" he growled.

Carth could say nothing. He could only stare at the glowing blue blade in Cortessa's hand. He felt heart-wrenchingly betrayed. Canderous, however, chuckled with admiration.

"She's extraordinary," he said. He thumped Carth on the shoulder. "Would you look at that? She bears the mark of the Jedi and yet she carries the diligence and strength of a great warrior."

Carth felt himself choke. He stared at Canderous, shocked.

"What?" the older man asked, blinking.

"You… you're not…"

Canderous began to laugh uproariously, and Carth flushed deep crimson, slumping miserably in his seat. Canderous shook his head and laughed, chortling happily. Carth wasn't sure what to make of this – it gave him no specific answer. He fretted for a moment before he grew angry, glaring at Cortessa's approaching form. She walked upright, a smug, pleased smirk on her face. Even in her new, baggy Jedi robes her figure was clearly cut. Carth shook his head angrily and slammed his fist on the desk before he calmed himself and wound up in maintenance repairs on the ship's guidance systems.

------

"So," said Canderous over breakfast the next morning, "why aren't you training?"

Cortessa glanced up at him and then back at the mushy substance that was her food. Carth sat stoically beside her, not even looking at her or his food, but rather at his lap, as if it held some magical riddle that he just had to solve. Mission was enthralled by her meal, though she wasn't eating as much as Zaalbar, who had emptied two bowls already and was on his third. Bastila daintily ignored them both, nibbling away at her food. Seeing no other option but to reply, Cortessa heaved a heavy sigh. "I'm on my final test. Once I finish, I'll become a Jedi for good." She looked up at him, her eyes darker than usual and more piercing. "I'm not sure how I feel about it, yet."

"You should be humbled and proud of the honor," said Bastila.

"I didn't ask _you_," Cortessa replied shortly.

Bastila fell silent again.

"I don't see why you need to be a Jedi," said Mission. "You're good at fighting as it is." She shrugged. "I guess."

"What does your test include?" Carth asked, looking up again and pinning Cortessa with his gaze.

Cortessa smiled weakly. "I have to cleanse a sacred grove of a taint. He wouldn't tell me how. Can I bring you guys with me? Just to make sure?"

"Absolutely," said Canderous immediately.

Mission nodded. Zaalbar mumbled. Bastila looked away; she wasn't included in this suggestion. She was a Jedi. Cortessa looked at Carth; he was the one she wanted to follow her most. He said nothing and stared at his food for a while before he hesitantly nodded. "Okay, I suppose," he muttered.

She grinned, genuinely pleased. "Thanks, doll. It means a lot to me."

He shifted uncomfortably and lost himself in his meal.

Cortessa looked around at everyone else, resting her arms on the table. "Okay, so. We're heading out today. Everyone okay with that?"

"Sure."

"Good. Go get ready. I sense this task won't be an easy one." She smirked and ushered them away, but Canderous remained, even while no one was left but Cortessa herself.

"Yes?" she said placidly.

"I just want you to know that I'm very proud of you," he said. "I know you haven't known me for more than a few months, but it means a lot. You're an excellent warrior. It is a worthwhile job to be at your side."

"That means so much, Canderous. Thank you."

He grinned wolfishly, but said nothing.

"Hey," said Cortessa, reclining in her seat and folding her arms. "Got any more war stories for me?" His stories were exquisite. She loved them. She hoped he would have some to tell, just so that she could tune out everything else for a while.

He glanced at her and grinned. "Sure," he said. He took a deep breath, running over where to start, before he was satisfied and began. "I was one of the best youth warriors in clan Ordo in my time. No one before he had mastered the power of our Basilisk war droids as quickly as I had. Except Mandalore himself, of course." A smirk flickered over his features.

"That's quite a waste of talent," she said. She started and stammered to explain. "I-I mean that… o-once the wars were over… you just… stopped. And became a…. a common mercenary… I'm sorry for you."

"Don't get yourself in a twist over it," he told her. "I admit it is upsetting but let me continue with my tale."

She nodded and shifted in her seat. She gazed at him with utter adoration, like a child and her grandfather. But she also wore some ill-placed attraction towards him. He knew she did; she didn't hide it well. She thought he wasn't aware – a charming factor, really – and the pilot was all too suspicious of him. As long as she didn't go along asking for it, he wouldn't touch her. But she was something to look at, and talk to. Had she been older, and a Mandalorian, and not reeling so over that Onasi fellow, Canderous might have claimed her.

"So you were telling me about the wars," she said, clearing her throat.

He nodded. "In those days, we were sweeping across the Outer Rim, destroying all who fought us. Young Mandalores would prove themselves in real combat with unknown opponents above a thousand worlds. Each brought back the story of his achievements."

She grinned. "I would have harnessed the most power," she said.

He laughed. "I bet you would have," he chuckled. "I have no doubt you would have."

She beamed at him.

Canderous continued. "We were still recovering from the war we fought with the Sith. We were not yet strong enough to fight the Republic again. We needed to train another generation to do that." He shook his head and laughed harshly. "We would travel from world to world, and descend on it in our Basilisk war droids. I still remember my first combat."

"Tell me," she said.

He gazed at her for a while, considering her. "Very well," he said. He smiled wistfully, getting lost in his memories. "I remember it well, orbiting high above a placid world, its defenses just stirring. As was tradition, I would go ahead of the first wave to find enemies in the thickest fighting."

"Oh, dare devil," said Cortessa, grinning.

He laughed. "Shush," he said. "Now… I remember standing there in my armor, linked directly with the Basilisk thrumming beneath me, my heart racing with fear at the coming battle."

"Fear?" she said. "Oh, Canderous. _Fear?_"

Canderous smiled at her and ruffled her hair. "Every new warrior has to fear to understand how to beat it," he told her. "You must know that."

"I know it now."

"Good." He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "The doors opened in front of me and the air was sucked out of the drop bay, scattering crystals of frozen vapor across my path." Cortessa's eyes were wide; she could picture the scene perfectly, and it made her heart go cold with awe. Canderous continued. "I can't describe what it feels like to look directly down at a world, falling continuously as you circle it, with barely fifteen centimeters of armor plate protecting you. When the magnetic locks disengaged on my droid I plunged out of the drop bay towards the battle that waited below. I –"

"You dropped from orbit riding a droid?" Cortessa blurted, interrupting him.

He laughed. "Yes," he said. "I did. Now would you listen?"

"Sorry."

He continued. "The exhilaration, the euphoria I felt as I streaked into the atmosphere, dodging self-guided projectile and beam weapons was unmatched. A 50 kilometer plunge through the atmosphere, dodging and weaving, the outside of my armor glowing like the sun with the heat of re-entry." Cortessa gasped at the imagery. Something inside her stirred – a tender, raw, aching sensation. She missed combat, now, already. Canderous wasn't catching on to the pain he was causing her, and kept speaking. "And with barely thirty meters to spare, I twisted and skimmed the surface, firing at the giant beam generators that were in my path. The explosion from that sent shockwaves that leveled the entire complex around it. It was the moment of my life."

Cortessa let a small moan escape her. "That's amazing," she murmured. Her heart burned with a strange longing that only someone meant for battle could feel. Her arms felt limp and useless. She needed to fight. Now she understood Canderous's dilemma, and why he had joined up with Davik in the first place. He needed to curb that urge to fight. It probably flowed beneath the surface of his skin, even now, while he spoke to her.

Canderous sighed. "I'll never forget those times. But things are different now. We can't go fighting the way we had. There are too few of us left now," he said, and glanced at her. He took in her sad eyes and skirted off of the subject. "But I don't really want to talk about this anymore. I trust I've satisfied your curiosity for now?" He added 'for now' obviously. She realized he wanted her to keep talking to him, but not at the moment. She smiled, pressing a hand to his shoulder.

"Nothing more _for now_," she said.

He nodded, smiling when he caught on. "Okay, then. Let's get this show on the road."

------

The heat of the courtyard was oppressing. Cortessa shook her head and turned her face away from the glare of the sun. Carth sighed heavily, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. Mission stripped off her vest and hung it up near the entrance to retrieve later. Zaalbar and Canderous were stoic.

"The way out is over there," said Cortessa, pointing.

"Let's go, then," said Carth.

They had barely gone a few feet when a man addressed them, shaking Cortessa's hand. "Greetings, friend," he said; his voice was gravelly and friendly, and Cortessa decided he meant no harm.

"Greetings," she murmured.

The man looked her over. "I think I can safely assume you are a member of the Jedi Order," he said, motioning towards her robes and lightsaber. "Has the Council agreed to hear our petition?"

Cortessa smiled at him. "I am merely an apprentice, not a Jedi," she said.

The man drooped. "Ah, I'm sorry," he muttered. "I was mistaken." He cleared his throat. "Does the Council require our presence?"

"I'm sorry," Cortessa told him. "I don't know."

Gar frowned. "Oh, I see. I'm sorry." He sat up straight. "How may I be of assistance?"

Cortessa looked him over. "Who are you?"

"Oh, right!" The man shook her hand again. "My name is Gar. Me and my fine wife Rilka here…"

A waif, middle-aged woman nodded at Cortessa and smiled. "A pleasure," she said.

Gar picked up again. "… live on one of the northern farms. But the kath hounds and the Mandalorian problem has been getting really bad of late, and we're here to ask the Jedi Council to help."

Canderous perked up from his sulky, uninterested silence. "Mandalorians?" he asked. "Here?"

Cortessa frowned. Gar nodded. "Ever since the Republic beat them years ago, little groups have been roaming all over the place."

Canderous scowled. "They're pathetic," he said. "They're taking scraps when they should be taking _worlds_."

"_Canderous_!" Mission gasped.

Zaalbar mumbled unhappily. Carth shook his head.

Gar stiffened but continued. "With the Sith invasion, the Republic doesn't have the manpower to hunt them down," he said determinedly. "The Jedi are even worse off because Malak has been hunting them specifically."

"Haha," said Canderous.

"Shut up, please," said Cortessa, and turned back to Gar.

Gar shrugged. "The Jedi are worried that he might even be supporting these raiders, so they don't want to face them directly. That puts in a kind of hard situation."

"I see."

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Cortessa nodded. "You mentioned kath hounds," she said.

"Oh, yes. Recently, the kath hounds have been acting much more aggressively," said Gar. "They've even attacked some of the settlers."

"Write that down, would you, Mission?" said Cortessa. "I want to know what we're going to face out here. Master Whatsit wasn't kidding when he said something was wrong." She swallowed nervously, and Mission pulled out her datapad.

Gar shifted uneasily. "Those Mandalorian raiders have been milking the outlying farms dry, too… I hear John got hit really bad. Too bad about his daughter."

Canderous snorted. "He should have been protecting her better if he wanted to keep her," he said shortly. Carth gaped. Mission gasped. Zaalbar gave a mortified roar. However, Cortessa felt herself agree.

Gar sputtered and thrust a fist in the Mandalorian's direction. "Mandalorian beast!" he shouted. "Some of us don't like fighting and killing and… a-and _butchering_ as much as you!"

His wife pressed a hand to his shoulder. "Let it go, Gar," she told him gently. "He means us no harm."

Gar growled quietly for a while before he regained control. His voice grew quiet. "I'm not exactly sure what the Council will do about it, but we need some help this time. I only hope they'll listen to me." He shook his head. "Do you need anything else, child?"

"I just want to know about Dantooine, and then I'll be on my way."

Gar nodded. "Well, as you can see here, Dantooine is mostly plains and grassland, but it has nice hearty soil. A lot of new people have come in the last generation or so."

"Any I might want to know about?"

"Hmm… the ones you'll most likely hear about are the Sandrals and Matales. Big, wealthy landowners, the both of them. But Ahlan Matale and Nurik Sandral just can't seem to get along. And now Ahlan wants to get the Council to do something."

Cortessa frowned. "Do something? Why?"

Gar shook his head sadly. "Well… from what I hear it started about a week ago. See, Nurik's son Casus is an archeologist, bright lad too, but he disappeared. Nurik of course blamed Ahlan, but even he didn't take it before the Council. But now Ahlan's son Shen has disappeared as well… and _no one_ knows where he's gone. Ahlan blames Nurik. He thinks he's kidnapped his son!" He shook his head again. "I don't know exactly what he wants to ask the Council, but from what I know of Ahlan, he's probably going to be after blood."

"I have to go now," said Cortessa quietly, bowing.

Gar nodded and shook her hand a final time. "Farewell, then," he said. "May the Force be with you. Is that how it goes?" He thought for a moment before he nodded. "Yes. May the Force be with you."

"May the Force be with you." Cortessa looked back at her friends, who stared back blankly. She shrugged and continued, only to be stopped by yet another man. This man was in his middle-age years, with graying hair and a sad face. Or, it would be sad, were it not for the fact that his expression was twisted with anger.

"Are you a Jedi?" he growled. "How long can you people continue to sit by and claim you protect us? Protectors? HA! You sit in your Enclave safe from the Mandalorians while we suffer!"

Cortessa frowned. "What?"

The man ignored her completely. "You Jedi have left them alone because they haven't hurt you, but they steal our property, destroy your land, and worse!"

"Are you Jon?" Cortessa asked.

"Yes," said the man warily. "Why?"

She ignored him. Carth butted in. "I say we look for these Mandalorians, Cortessa. I fought them in the war… they're nothing but vicious pirates." (Canderous slapped his repeater in his open palm.) "We should stop them if we can."

"I'm not sure…" Cortessa began, but Jon cut in.

"Those Mandalorian brutes have killed my daughter!"

Canderous spoke up, narrowing his eyes. "You should have protected her better. And you call yourself her father."

Mission groaned and shook her head. Carth stared with shock. Cortessa was torn between agreeing and wondering what Canderous knew about fatherhood. Jon spluttered angrily.

"And what am I supposed to do against a dozen Mandalorians and Duros? NOTHING! THERE WAS NOTHING I COULD DO!" His voice grew soft and he shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. "They came to our land, demanding our livelihood… but Ilsa… my Ilsa… said no…"

"I'm sorry," said Cortessa softly.

Mission piped up. "She wasn't very smart to say no with a blaster against her head."

Canderous laughed and slapped her on the shoulder.

Jon looked away, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "She was always impulsive," he muttered, and sobbed into his hand. After a moment, he drew a shaky breath and found the strength to continue. "There was nothing I could do… Too many of the Mandalorians and their Duros allies… I've come here to ask you, please, master Jedi, stop these raiders and get revenge for my daughter."

Cortessa deeply felt for Jon's case. She stepped up and allowed him a hug. He sobbed into her shoulder for a little while, and the rest of the crew stood by awkwardly, not sure what to say. Finally, Jon pulled back and wiped away his tears. Cortessa held his face in her hands.

"I will do this for you," she told him. "But never for revenge."

He didn't quite comprehend. "Please, I beg of you…" he cried.

"_Shh_, I will," she said. "Just sit, and calm down. I promise you, the Mandalorians will not walk the plains after I have finished with them."

"Thank you," choked Jon. "Thank you."

She nodded and bowed, and silently led her group away.

------

**Author's Notes: **In the game Jon sounds like a sap. He still does. The sap. Read the deleted chapter if you want. The deleted chapter won't progress the story any, and will not influence any future parts. Most of my chapters go through several revisions. Just because this one went through the most revisions, I decided to post this one's 'doppelganger.' Hope you liked it.

**DarthNexus9000 **– Thank you. I hope you liked this one as well.

**Dante-Revan **– Thanks for noticing the Jedi Masters. I tried my best to keep them in character but stretch them out a bit. If that makes sense.

**Ilea Dreike **– I had fun making up a whole bunch of different answers. There was one point where I had her screw up two separate parts by saying that there was no ignorance, there was death, but it didn't make much sense so I got rid of it. I'm pretty pleased with the ones I left.

**FaintlyAlarming **– Here you go. :D

**Amme Moto **– It's meant to. XD Hope you like this.

**Dark Lord Daishi **– Glad you liked those. I enjoyed throwing in little things like that. It makes everything so much bigger.

**SilverSentinal21 **– Eh. Carth's moping has a reason. Most of this stuff is leading up to something. It's not anything big or complex, so don't get too excited, but it's important all the same. I'm glad you liked Canderous, though. I always felt he was the underdog (he, T3, and Jolee) in KotOR II.

**Child-of-the-Dawn **– Thanks for liking that stuff. It was very fun to write.

**Queenofinsanity **– Here we are. c",)


	23. Deleted Chapter TFT

**Savior Self**

_Dantooine part three._

**Rated PG13**

**Disclaimer: **I've been listening to a Russian pop/rock song for FOUR days straight. Give. Me. A. Break.

**Savior Self**

Cortessa made her way up to Master Dorak, her arms clasped respectfully behind her back. She bowed to him, and he bowed to her, and they made nice for a moment before he asked what she wanted.

"I wish to discuss something with you, Master," she mumbled.

He smiled knowingly. "Ah," he said. "You have come, young apprentice, at Master Zhar's bidding. He sees great promise in you… as do I. The time has come for you to choose the color of your lightsaber. This color also reflects your demeanor and position within the order."

Cortessa rested her hands on her hips. "Okay," she said.

He explained to her the different colors and positions before he started her on a quiz. "A woman and her small child are beset by a desperate-looking group of thugs. They are menacing her with weapons and she screams for you to help. What do you do?"

"Gut those thugs so badly their souls will be too broken to reach hell," Cortessa said.

Dorak was stunned. The other Council members stared with unmasked shock.

"Right, then," Dorak said slowly. "On to the next question." He took a deep breath. "You are in combat with a Dark Jedi allied with the Sith. There is a pause in the combat. What do you do?"

"Gut him like a fish."

Dorak winced. "Yes, I figured as much," he said with a hint of resentfulness. He sighed and continued. "Now for the next question. There is a locked door and your goal lies on the other side. What do you do?"

Cortessa thought about it and shrugged. "Pick the lock. If it's magnetic, bomb it to bits."

Dorak nodded thoughtfully. "I think I'm beginning to see a pattern here, apprentice. I have a feeling about what you would be best at. But first, the final question. You are the head of an Enclave on a contested world. The Dark Jedi have infiltrated and are causing unrest across the planet. What do you do?"

Cortessa raised an eyebrow. "Hunt them down," she said. "Kill every last one."

Vandar swore under his breath. Vrook stared at him with shock.

"This day just keeps getting…" Vrook muttered, and massaged his temples.

Dorak shifted uneasily. "As I suspected," he said softly. "You would be most suitable as a Jedi Guardian." He glanced at her. "What color and path do you believe yourself most suited to, apprentice?"

She shrugged. "Don't care," she said smoothly. "Give me the blue crystal. It's just as well."

"This is a serious advancement, apprentice."

"Yeah, okay. I'll be a Guardian, then. Protector of the peace."

Dorak handed her the blue crystal. "Here. Go speak with Master Zhar again and he will instruct you in how to construct it."

She bowed and studied the crystal. It was actually quite lovely, all shiny and clear. She gazed through it for a moment before she brought it to Master Zhar, pressing it into his palm. "There," she said. "I have my crystal."

Master Zhar smiled at her. "Good. Now that you have selected your crystal, we shall begin the construction of your lightsaber."

"Finally," Cortessa said, fishing the pieces from her pockets. "Just tell me what to do."

------

Carth shifted impatiently in his seat, gazing out at the door of the enclave. The barb he had embraced that had been Bastila's secrecy had begun to fester, and now he was feeling impatient and wary. What _was_ Cortessa doing all day? What was wearing her down? Why? What secret mission was the Council sending her on? Why? Where? How? With whom? When?

Oh, yes. The barb was definitely festering.

Then Cortessa strode out of the Enclave with a glowing blue lightsaber. Carth started so violently he knocked his empty caffa over. He swore so loudly, Canderous actually came to check on him.

"What's your problem now?" he growled.

Carth could say nothing. He could only stare at the glowing blue blade in Cortessa's hand. He felt heart-wrenchingly betrayed. Canderous, however, chuckled with admiration.

"She's extraordinary," he said. He thumped Carth on the shoulder. "Would you look at that? She bears the mark of the Jedi and yet she carries the diligence and strength of a great warrior."

Carth felt himself choke. He stared at Canderous, shocked.

"What?" the older man asked, blinking.

"You… you're not…"

Canderous began to laugh uproariously, and Carth flushed deep crimson, slumping miserably in his seat. Canderous shook his head and laughed, chortling happily. Carth wasn't sure what to make of this – it gave him no specific answer. He fretted for a moment before he grew angry, glaring at Cortessa's approaching form. She walked upright, a smug, pleased smirk on her face. Even in her new, baggy Jedi robes her figure was clearly cut. Carth shook his head angrily and slammed his fist on the desk before he calmed himself and wound up in maintenance repairs on the ship's guidance systems.

He listened as she opened up the loading ramp and climbed inside. Mission could be heard squealing with delight, and the two of them giggled as they embraced like they did every time they had the chance to see each other. Canderous was talking softly, laughing, and T3-M4 whirred pleasantly. Carth felt rejected and stared blankly at the screen, unable to focus now.

"How's everyone been?" he could hear her ask.

Mission went off on a long rant about the kath hounds and how Zaalbar was a god at smashing their heads in. Canderous explained where to shoot them, and there was a loud bang as he slammed the barrel of his repeater against the wall.

Cortessa's voice grew too soft to hear. Mission could be heard scampering about in another room. After a few moments, Cortessa's approaching footsteps echoed outside the door.

The door opened and she peeked in. "Hey, doll," she said in a friendly way. She seemed to be in a better mood than she had been for the past two months. Carth looked at her and folded his arms.

"Hello," he said emotionlessly.

She frowned. "Something wrong?" She moseyed up beside him and peered over at his work.

He swiveled his chair around so that he was facing the desk again and resumed working. She leaned against his seat and reached around, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him back.

"What?" he grunted, struggling against her grip. She remained firm.

She breathed against his ear; he couldn't see her, but it was painfully obvious that she was there as her arms snaked down to his chest. "What's the matter, doll?" she murmured. Her voice was deep and sensual. "Something's up."

"I don't want to talk about it," he said stiffly, trying to dislodge her. She caught his hand up in hers, and he beat it away. He shuddered. "Why do you do that? It isn't right."

"You don't like it?" He could tell by her tone that she believed he _did_ like it. She wouldn't be wrong, but he wasn't a fool.

"Let off."

She chuckled and withdrew her hands, only to rest them on his shoulders and work her fingers to massage away his tension. The touch brought painfully pleasurable shivers up his spine.

He jerked to his feet, jamming his fists in his pockets. "Leave me alone."

She gazed up at him with wide, innocent blue eyes. Her chin rested on the back of his chair and her hands were gently gripping the armrests, smoothing out the tops with her thumbs.

He shook his head. "What is the matter with you? Did Mission slip stim boosters in your caffa again?"

She smirked, licking her lips. "No," she murmured, sliding an arm up and tangling her fingers in her hair. "I asked."

"What do you mean, you _asked_?"

She stood up, folding her arms. Her playful seduction was coming to a close. He was relieved. She glanced over the cockpit and sighed. "I figured," she said. "I… I _hoped_ that maybe it would help…"

"Help _what_?" he hissed. "I don't need your help."

"I just wanted you to open up a little more," she replied, resting her hands on her hips. "I wanted you to trust me."

"Why?"

"Does it matter? It didn't work." She shook her head and raked him with her gaze. For the first time, he realized, she was genuinely puzzled. For the first time, he realized, she had not won out in a battle over seduction. He wasn't sure how he felt about this. She sighed, pushing her bangs from her eyes. "You're tough," she admitted. "Very tough. I knew you wouldn't be easy but…" She chuckled. "_Damn_!"

"Is that all it is?" he cried.

She wrinkled her nose and looked away. He forcibly ignored the trembling sensation that started from his toes and worked up to his hands. A guttural, angry growl rose up in the back of her throat and she reeled out. He could hear her stamping feet as she marched down the corridor to somewhere else.

Weakly, he sank into his seat, letting out a deep, shaking breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He ran a trembling hand through his hair and couldn't focus on his work after that. He felt breathless and clammy. His skin still ached where she had touched him.

------

Canderous glanced up from his repeater as Cortessa barreled into the room in a fuss. He smirked and turned back to his work, carefully picking out the dirt between the grooves of his precious weapon. "I'm guessing it didn't go as planned," he said, and slipped the small piece of metal between his teeth.

"I don't get it," she told him, sinking down into the seat beside him. She sighed heavily and studied the table, her brows furrowed. She brushed away some of the dislodged dirt and leaned forward onto the table, staring at him. "I've never met anyone quite like him."

"Don't turn it into a challenge," Canderous told her, hardly listening. "Brings about weakness and unneeded feelings."

"Feelings?"

He smirked. "Let's just say it'll put you on the receiving end before it's over."

She blinked. "How would you know?"

He shrugged and thunked the butt of his gun against the table to shake loose any extra grime. "I've had my fair share of fights and scars, kid," he said quietly.

"Can you tell me?"

He chuckled, looking her over. "We're onto that again, are we?"

She smiled meekly.

He shrugged. "Sure. Since I've been with you for three months now, I guess it wouldn't hurt." He lit a cigarra and considered his memories.

"Maybe you could start with the wars," she murmured huskily.

He glanced at her and grinned. "Sure," he said. He took a deep breath, running over where to start, before he was satisfied and began. "I was one of the best youth warriors in clan Ordo in my time. No one before he had mastered the power of our Basilisk war droids as quickly as I had. Except Mandalore himself, of course." A smirk flickered over his features.

"That's quite a waste of talent," she said. She started and stammered to explain. "I-I mean that… o-once the wars were over… you just… stopped. And became a…. a common mercenary… I'm sorry for you."

"Don't get yourself in a twist over it," he told her. "I admit it is upsetting but let me continue with my tale."

She nodded and shifted in her seat. She gazed at him with utter adoration, like a child and her grandfather. But she also wore some ill-placed attraction towards him. He knew she did; she didn't hide it well. She thought he wasn't aware – a charming factor, really – and the pilot was all too suspicious of him. But as long as she didn't go along asking for it, he wouldn't touch her. But she was something to look at, and talk to. Had she been older, and a Mandalorian, and not reeling so over that Onasi fellow, Canderous might have claimed her.

"So you were telling me about the wars," she said, clearing her throat.

He nodded. "In those days, we were sweeping across the Outer Rim, destroying all who fought us. Young Mandalores would prove themselves in real combat with unknown opponents above a thousand worlds. Each brought back the story of his achievements."

She grinned. "I would have harnessed the most power," she said.

He laughed. "I bet you would have," he chuckled. "I have no doubt you would have."

She beamed at him.

Canderous continued. "We were still recovering from the war we fought with the Sith. We were not yet strong enough to fight the Republic again. We needed to train another generation to do that." He shook his head and laughed harshly. "We would travel from world to world, and descend on it in our Basilisk war droids. I still remember my first combat."

"Tell me," she said; he caught the note of pleading in her voice.

"What do you take comfort in?" he murmured to her.

She stared.

"Don't pretend to be stupid," he said.

She shifted. "I don't know," she said. "I… I need to think on it. I don't know what the hell I was thinking when I… i-it's… nothing. Just… just tell your story. It will take my mind off of things."

He cocked an eyebrow. "You sure?"

She took a deep breath. "Continue." She paused and looked him over, her eyes shining with some inner desperation. "Romanticize it for me."

He smiled. "Is that right?" he asked.

Tears welled up in her eyes. "I don't want to talk about me," she said. "Tell me about you."

He took her hand. "You need to wait a while. Get some rest."

At first, she looked reluctant. Her eyes grew wide and she studied him for a moment before she hesitantly nodded, and rose to her feet. In complete silence, she shuffled into her room and shut the door.

------

**Author's Notes: **This is a deleted chapter, a chapter that ruined my plotline, so I got rid of it. I figured you may want it anyway, so here it is. I was in a romantic mood and couldn't think up a plot for a fluff fic. Best I could do. Sue me. And yeah, I know, Cortessa's being a whore again, but it's only because she's lovesick and can't come to terms with her feelings. She and Canderous will **not** get together.

This was in honor of my birthday. That's fifteen years of hell I've wreaked, and I'm just getting started.


	24. The Tainted Grove

**Savior Self**

_Whoa. Dantooine part four already._

**Rated PG13**

**Disclaimer: **I wonder if I could ever pull off a climax. I don't think I can.

**Savior Self**

Cortessa led the group over a bridge and started onto the plains, but was again stopped, this time by a willowy woman with a gaunt face. Cortessa flinched, irritated with the amount of attention she was getting, and the woman spoke in spread Twi'lek-talk.

"Greetings, young Jedi. I wonder if you could assist me. I seem to have lost my… _companion_, you see," she said, looking nervous.

Cortessa was fascinated, wondering where this woman had learned to speak like a Twi'lek. Mission, too, stared with interest. "Hmm? Who are you?"

"Oh, right." The woman shook her head. "I'm sorry, master Jedi. I did not give you a proper introduction. I am Elise Montagne. I own the farm to the north of here." He took a deep breath. "But I really need your assistance. Time may be critical with so many kath hounds about. Oh, and those Mandalorians! Please, will you help me find him?"

Cortessa nodded, thinking that this woman had obviously lost her boyfriend, or something like. "Tell me what happened."

Elise sighed with relief. "Okay. We were working on my farm to the north of here. I was working in the garden outside, and he was working inside. I heard the door open, but not close. I went to see, and found it wide open. I searched everywhere, and could not find him! I worry so much. I need him back badly. I wonder if he… could he have been kidnapped?"

Cortessa looked her over. "It's possible," she said. "Does anyone hold a grudge against him?"

Elise bit her lip. "Not that I know of… Er…" She cleared her throat uncertainly. "None of my neighbors really know he's there."

Cortessa cocked an eyebrow. To cover her embarrassment, Elise thought aloud.

"Maybe it was the Mandalorians… or maybe kath hounds. But… no… Kath hounds aren't intelligent enough to open doors. Although, they have been more vicious lately…. No… It must have been someone who could open the door by himself. Come to think of it, the door was locked!"

Cortessa thought for a moment. "Could someone have bypassed the lock?" she asked.

Elise shook her head. "No, the door was undamaged and showed no signs of tampering…" She frowned.

Cortessa folded her arms. "Could it have been opened from the inside?"

Elise nodded reluctantly. "Well… Yes, it could have. But he had no reason to run away! His programming…" She gasped, clasping her hands to her mouth, her eyes going wide.

Cortessa stared. "A droid?" She coughed. "You're sending me after a droid?"

Elise flushed embarrassedly, shifting uneasily. "Well… yes," she muttered. "He is a droid."

Mission howled with laugher, falling backwards onto her bottom. Carth hid his grin behind his hand and Canderous stared with unmasked horror. Zaalbar was impassive. Cortessa figured he wasn't grasping the situation, and that was okay.

Elise struggled to regain Cortessa's attention. "But he is very valuable to me all the same! He is the last piece of my poor, passed-away husband I have left!" Her voice grew quiet and fond. "He is very dear to me, my precious is. I don't know what I'd do without him!"

"Sleep with yourself?" Canderous suggested.

She glared at him. "He is the only companionship I have on all of Dantooine!" she cried.

"I wonder why," said Mission, and began to laugh again.

Cortessa said slowly, hesitantly, "What did you use him for again?"

Mission laughed so hard her voice echoed off of the surrounding rock faces and a few people stared.

Elise flushed a deep crimson. "He is a personal assistance droid," she said determinedly. "My husband was a genius at constructing droids. He made this one capable of taking care of me for the rest of my life."

Canderous fell silent as he pictured a droid with hundreds of… well. Never mind. Canderous was Canderous.

Cortessa sighed. Elise shook her head.

"As the last legacy of my husband, for my own personal ease of mind, I need him back! His absence gnaws at me like a gaping wound!"

Carth hissed in Cortessa's ear. "Wow, she really misses her droid, doesn't she?"

"Carth, not you too," she groaned.

Carth stepped away.

Elise gripped Cortessa's sleeve. "Please, I beg of you, return my droid to me!"

Cortessa studied her for a moment and relented. "Very well. If I happen to see him, I will send him back to you."

Elise nearly sobbed with joy. "Thank you! Thank you, master Jedi! If you find him, please send him back home to me. I need him so much!"

Mission was breathless. Zaalbar picked her up and carried her over his shoulder as they continued to the plains. Almost instantly they were attacked by a large pack of kath hounds. Frustrated with all of the interruptions that day, Cortessa charged forward and gutted them all, screaming like a banshee. There were too many, however, and they overwhelmed her.

Carth swore and blasted away with prejudice. Canderous kept his head and picked most of them off, and Zaalbar rushed forward, roaring, and tore the head from the nearest kath hound. Cortessa lay still on the blood-soaked grass, eyes shut.

"Dammit," said Carth. "Cortessa?"

She groaned and sat up. "That was awesome," she said, grinning at them. Her hair was a wild mess; small stems of bloody grass stuck out randomly.

"You're… you're untouched!" Zaalbar gasped.

"I used the Force to make a shield," said Cortessa, getting to her feet. "That was cool. It was like, they couldn't touch me!"

Carth fell into an uncomfortable silence. Canderous smiled at her. Mission fell silent, staring at the ground.

"Mission?"

She looked up, blinking. "Huh? Oh… sorry." She smiled weakly. "I was just thinking about Taris. I still can't believe it's gone. I mean, I grew up there and now it's… it's… i-it's just gone!" She shook her head.

Cortessa wondered what had triggered her memory, but didn't ask. Mission always connected things that should have no relation at all. "I'm sorry," she said unhappily. "I don't know what to say." Really, it was Cortessa and Bastila's fault. Bastila was this huge icon that Malak was hunting, and Cortessa had taken her sweet time getting her out. An entire planet was wasted because they hadn't lit their tails fast enough. The fact haunted her every day. But Cortessa would never admit it aloud. Never. It was her pain that she would carry on her own and never show.

Mission didn't seem to think so, however, as she smiled at her friend. "I don't really think there's anything you _can_ say," she said quietly. "I just have to find some way to deal with it. I guess it'll take some time." She took a deep breath. "Look, I'm not saying I can't go on or anything like that. It's just… it's a shock, you know? I mean, I knew the Sith were evil and all, but the reality of it kind of slaps you in the face. But I suppose that's why we need to stop Malak, right? The more time I spend dwelling on Taris the more chance some other planet will get wiped out. I guess that's what it comes down to. So don't worry about me, I'll be okay. And if you need my help against Malak or the Sith, I'll be there for you."

"That's very mature, Mission," said Carth, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I know what it's like to lose a home-world. I think a lot of us do."

Mission smiled at him and he hugged her tightly. After a moment she backed up into Zaalbar, who hugged her, too. Finally, Cortessa embraced her warmly, and they set out again. Everyone felt a little bit better after that, even as they ran through endless stretches of plains.

Occasionally they ran into kath hounds, but they weren't a problem at first. But then they came across a large pack. The kath hounds were easy to kill, but they kept on coming, and soon everyone was exhausted. Some kath hounds ran and doubled back; some left for good. When the battle was over, Cortessa was breathless and knee-deep in bloody corpses. She sank to the ground, moaning.

"I love this place," she breathed.

"You're nuts," said Carth. "Look at you."

She gazed up at him, blood-soaked and ruffled. She laughed. "You aren't so bad yourself, doll," she said, getting to her feet. "We have to keep moving. The day is fading. Let's go."

They wandered for a good hour before they arrived at the grove. As they rounded the bend, Cortessa spotted the figure of a kneeling woman.

"Stay here, you guys," she said. "I want to check this out." She turned on her stealth generator and slunk forward, bracing herself. This woman was a Jedi. Cortessa could feel the power flowing from her. She crept closer.

The woman was not human. She was Cathar. Her entire body was covered with fine, soft, tawny fur, lined with ginger stripes. Her topknot was braided and pulled back tight, with beads wound inside. Her robes were clean and crisp and her lightsaber lay between her knees. The wind teased her hair; the beads in her topknot clinked together softly. The woman herself was still, at peace. This woman, this Cathar, was so peaceful and still… motionless… collected…

Suddenly, without any prior warning, she sprang. Cortessa's stealth generator mysteriously went down with a crackle and she barely had enough time to throw herself out of the way. The Cathar screamed, reeling backwards and twirling her lightsaber in a flash of red.

"RISE!" she shrieked in heavily-accented Basic. "I WILL BE YOUR DOOM! FACE YOUR DOOM! FACE ME!"

Cortessa rolled to her feet and crouched there with her lightsaber and vibroblade drawn, her feet poised to pounce. She gasped for breath, staring up at the Cathar, who glared her through yellow eyes. The unknown Jedi bared her fangs, her eyes gleaming.

"Who are you?" Cortessa asked.

The Cathar struck down and missed. Cortessa Force pushed her away and jumped back a few steps. The Cathar stumbled to her feet, hissing and spitting. They lunged for each other and vanished in a flurry of lightsaber strikes. Sparks lit the sky, setting small clumps of grass ablaze, and nothing could be seen of the women between the flashing of their weapons. Their battle cries couldn't be heard over the buzz and screeches of lightsabers. The sky turned gold and red.

Cortessa kicked her in the stomach. The Cathar lunged at her anyway, clawing for her face, and Cortessa reflexively grabbed her wrist. The force of the Cathar's lunge drove them against a pillar. Cortessa gasped as the wind was knocked from her and the Cathar was quick to straddle her and pin her against the pillar, still standing. Her body was warm and powerful; Cortessa could feel muscles heaving beneath the thick robes and soft fur. The Cathar snarled down at her, eyes flashing.

"Who are you?" Cortessa screamed, lurching forward to detach herself. The Cathar held firm. The two staggered and stumbled and finally fell to the ground, a tangled heap. The Cathar rolled and pinned Cortessa beneath her. She glared down at Cortessa and grinned evilly.

"I am Juhani," she hissed. "And this I my grove. This is the place of my dark power. This is the place you have invaded. For that, you must die."

Cortessa swung a leg up and unsaddled Juhani. She moved to pin the Jedi beneath her and stared into her eyes. "Why did you come here?"

Juhani screamed and writhed beneath her. "When I embraced the dark side, this was where I sought my solace!" she shrieked, gasping for breath and searching for her lightsaber. "It is MINE!" She bucked and Cortessa was knocked off of her.

They scrambled to their feet, drawing their weapons and staring each other down. Cortessa felt her chest burn as she gasped for breath. She looked around and licked her lips to gather the blood from them. She drew a sleeve over her mouth to get rid of any residue. Suddenly the pitch hit and she came to. Everything slowed down except for her; everything smelled stronger, tasted better, felt more sensual. She drove forward, and Juhani could only sluggishly raise her weapon. Cortessa dropped down with a thump and kicked out at Juhani's shins. The Cathar crumpled with a guttural roar of fury and pain.

The battle was over. Cortessa lay there, gasping for breath, her chest heaving and her muscles burning with battle passion. Juhani lay beside her, struggling for air as well. Her fur was matted down with sweat and blood as she turned her milky yellow eyes to Cortessa.

"You…" Juhani gasped, "You are strong. Stronger than me, even in my darkness."

Cortessa struggled to her knees and gazed down at her, twisting her face with the effort it took to breathe. "Have you been corrupting the kath hounds?"

A nasty grin snapped over Juhani's face. "Yes, aren't they pretty? My pets. They like the smell of power I exude. They know their master. I harnessed true power when I struck down my master, Quatra. Power enough to crush the life from someone such as you… or so I thought…" Her expression faltered and she looked away with a sigh.

Cortessa frowned. "The dark side is never powerful enough," she said softly.

Juhani lay there silently for a moment before she asked, "What is it you want? Why do you bother me?"

Cortessa knelt at her side, overcome with sympathy for the poor creature. "I just want to talk," she said.

Juhani stared. "Talk?" she hissed. "You who have beaten me so easily just want to talk? I do not believe it! Kill me now, while you still have the power!"

"Do you want to die, Juhani?"

"Yes! Yes! Kill me!"

"I don't want to kill you, Juhani."

Juhani blinked, shocked. "You… you do not?" she breathed. Tears welled up in her eyes and she looked away again. "I am pathetic. I sit here and think myself great by embracing the dark side, but I am nothing. There is no way I could be turned back." She sighed remorsefully. "I always thought they held me back, were jealous of my power. But it is only because I was not good enough to meet their standards… I never have been."

Cortessa rested a warm hand on her shoulder. "Come now, Juhani," she said gently. "You don't mean that. You're a beautiful young woman who has much talent."

Juhani gazed at her with appreciation. "I think you for your kind words, Jedi," she murmured. "You seem to know just what affects me… I seem to still have much to learn… Both about being a Jedi, and about myself." She wiped a tear from her eye. "But I wish the cost of my ignorance had not been so high. I wish that my Master had not suffered because of me."

"It wasn't your fault, Juhani."

Juhani gritted her teeth, tears streaming down her cheeks. "It is! IT IS! It was I who hurt her, I who killed her! Her suffering is my fault alone! Leave me to my pain!" She turned away, but Cortessa gripped her wrist.

"No, now," she said gently. "It's not your fault."

Juhani shuddered, firmly wiping away her tears with her sleeve. "I only wish things could have been different," she said weakly. "If she were alive now, there would be so much I would say to her… so much I would apologize for. I think, in my own way, I truly loved her…"

Cortessa blinked. This was getting a little awkward. She kept her mouth shut, however.

Juhani moaned with grief. "Oh, how can the Council ever take me back after what I have done? Striking my Master down in anger is unforgivable!"

Cortessa worked up the courage to say more. "Do not worry, Juhani. They will surely take you back."

Juhani's eyes brightened at the prospect. "I should convince them that I am truly repentant, that I am willing to forsake the dark side. Maybe, just maybe, they would accept me back. Do you think they would? Could it be possible after what I have done?"

Cortessa smiled encouragingly. "Of course it would," she said gently. "They would always accept you back."

Juhani's eyes brimmed with tears. "Thank you, master Jedi," she murmured. "I will return to the Council, then. I shall submit myself to their judgment, and hope that they will forgive me. If only there was some way I could make this up to you…"

"Your thanks is thanks enough."

"So, again, I thank you. I am sure I will hear great things about you in the future." She rose to her feet and brushed herself off before she scampered off, leaving her lightsaber among the ruins. Cortessa was left standing alone in the grove. Slowly, like bad blood seeping from a wound, the dark, trampled grass around her turned golden.

Her test was complete.

------

**Author's Notes: **I like this one a little. I like how Canderous and Cortessa are clicking as friends. It's a father/daughter, teacher/student kind of relationship. I promise nothing will get out of hand unless I feel the need for a plot twist, which right now doesn't seem to be needed so badly. The whole Mission thing bugs me and I don't feel it was in-depth enough, but I just don't have enough room otherwise. Sorry, Mish. :(

**FaintlyAlarming **– The kill kill kill thing was supposed to disturb you. So that's good.

**Amme Moto **– I'm sorry my updates are taking so long. I've been really busy and now I'm sick again.

**Dante-Revan **– Oh, the ideas. XD You're evil, you are. But I do love suggestions, suppositions, or ideas – they're fun to mess around with.

**SilverSentinal21 **– She wasn't a scoundrel, she was a scout. But I can see how you'd make the mistake. XD She'll get used to the Force later on. Right now, she's still adjusting. Thanks for the comment on the war stories and Jon. And the comment on my birthday, too.

**Ilea Dreike **– Yes, we'll have to wait and see. XD The clearness of her alignment, however, will be hard to see until the very end.

**Queenofinsanity **– Thank you for the comment on my birthday. c",)

**Dark Lord Daishi **– I wonder vaguely what an aneurysm is.

**Child-of-the-Dawn **– Thanks for the comment on my birthday. Happy happy happy!

**DarthNexus9000 **– Of course it messes up the plot. That's why I deleted it.

**JadeFalcon3 **– Hello there. It's nice to see a new face.

THANK YOU ALL FOR 100 COMMENTS!


	25. A Jedi 'Hangover'

**Savior Self**

_Maybe I should make up a different title. Dantooine part five._

**Rated PG13**

**Disclaimer: **It just keeps getting worse. This time I accidentally typed, "Rated PG24."

**Savior Self**

Finally, Cortessa motioned for her friends to join her. They rushed forth, and Carth embraced her tightly. Stunned, she said nothing, and gazed at Canderous blankly.

"Are you alright?" Mission asked. "That looked really close. We were scared for you."

"She would have killed you, too, if you had interfered," said Cortessa, dislodging Carth, who recoiled hesitantly. "She felt that she had been overwhelmed by the dark side."

"Had she?" Canderous asked.

"No. She's going to the Enclave now to confess and hope to be redeemed."

"So you saved her," said Carth. He studied her face. "Right?"

"She saved herself, Carth."

"But you convinced her to save herself, didn't you?"

"I only gave her the chance. She took it."

"So –"

"Give it a rest, Carth, please," she sighed, pushing her bangs away. She felt exhausted, now that the battle fever had faded away. Her limbs felt limp and weak; she had overexerted herself. She couldn't even find the vigor to call her favorite pilot 'doll.'

"Are you sure you're okay?" murmured Mission.

"Cortessa Blatt, please open your eyes," said Zaalbar suddenly. He reached out a heavy paw to steady her, and she wavered.

"I'm sorry," she said, pressing her palm to her forehead. "I've just… I haven't fought another Jedi before. I-It's…" She sighed. "Overwhelming. I… you wouldn't understand." She leaned against Zaalbar tiredly, and he held her, gazing at his companions desperately.

"What do you mean?" Carth asked, a bit more sharply than intended.

"It's… deep," said Cortessa, watching him through half-closed lids. Her lips were gently parted as she breathed. "It's… I think I let her in too far. Oh, Carth… it's deeper than anything. It's moving. It's like… like… like _a dance_, Carth. It's like dancing, only with your soul and mind… I can hardly explain it. I think… I think it comes very close to love… passion… oh, damn. I'm tired. I'm going crazy."

"I'll say," said Canderous, his voice a little weak.

Carth was in stunned silence. He watched her with wide, soft eyes; deep eyes that made her feel ill. She looked away, fixing her eyes on a nearby tree. Its charred, broken, gnarled branches were turning a healthy brown, and it slowly perked upwards again. The black burns were fading, being swallowed as the taint was sucked away. Zaalbar, Mission, and Canderous watched, too, awed, but Carth continued to stare at her.

"What do you want now?" she moaned, turning her gaze to him, held upright only by Zaalbar's huge paws.

Carth shook his head and stared at his feet. "Nothing."

Her knees buckled. She gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head, and she fell to the ground. The world spun, and faded into darkness.

------

"What's wrong with her?" Carth demanded, raising his voice at the Jedi medic. He had been waiting outside her room the entire day with Mission, Zaalbar, and Canderous, waiting for her to emerge, and no one would tell him what was wrong. He was getting tired of it. His knuckles were white, for he had been clenching his fists to tightly his fingers ached.

The medic rested a hand on his shoulder. "Peace, child," he said coolly, though he was only ten years Carth's senior at most.

Carth tensed. "You tell me what's going on or I'll do something we'll all regret."

"Gods, Carth, calm down!" Mission said. "You're being unfair."

The medic folded his arms. "She is merely overwhelmed after her first real battle with another Jedi. She will recover in time."

"She's fought a Jedi before," said Carth. She had – in the Sith military base on Taris.

"She did not fight him, she attacked him from behind," said the medic. "It is quite simply not the same thing. There was no battle. Merely a death. To a Jedi, their first battle is as dramatic as having their virginity stripped from them. It will be a while before she gets over the shock." He looked over Carth's stunned face and added, "You may visit tomorrow, if you so wish."

"Is it that awful?" Carth asked, stunned. He had been there, of course. The look on their faces, that unmistakable lust and sensuality, but Cortessa had always reacted that way to battle. The suggestive positions they had taken seemed only coincidental. Were all Jedi battles that poetic? That gripping? That hurtful?

"That is too much information for you, child," said the medic shortly. "You are not a Jedi, and to be knowledgeable of these things will be far too painful for you."

"I don't want her to be a Jedi!" he cried. "I can't let her… DAMMIT."

"Carth, sit!" Mission snapped. "You're getting worked up."

"The Force works in strange ways indeed," said Canderous.

"Get over here!"

Carth slunk into his seat and lost his face in his hands. The silence and stillness was unbearable. It took all of his will not to pace, to scream, to throw something precious. He was worried for her, down to the pit of his stomach. He didn't know what he would do if she was horribly hurt, hurt beyond repair. For the first time in a long time, he felt utterly lost.

Suddenly, the medic was sent sprawling, and he scrambled to his feet, reeling backwards. He stared with wide, horrified eyes at the door, which burst open as forcefully as it might have if there had been a great wind. The entrance hangings waved horribly, like thrashing hands reaching for one's soul. Carth stared with shock at the inside of the Cortessa's room. Everything had picked up in a whirlwind, including a Jedi nurse, who screamed and flailed her arms as she went round and round.

Cortessa stood in the thick of it all, laughing hysterically, her hair sweaty and matted down against her head. Her skin was unnaturally pale, her eyes lacking the iris and pupil. Her teeth glared in the bright lights of the medical room.

"OH MY GODS!" screamed Mission. "OH MY GODS!"

"What's happening?" Carth cried.

Cortessa's head snapped back and she laughed at the ceiling, curling her fingers like menacing claws.

Carth stumbled backwards as an enormous shockwave was sent through the Enclave. Zaalbar roared incoherently, frightened, and Mission screamed. Canderous was stiff with something between awe, fright, and fascination.

"I CAN FEEL IT! THE POWER!" She thrust her hand outward, and a light exploded. "CAN YOU FEEL IT?"

She went on like this, speaking to someone who wasn't there, about power, about the Force, about strength and triumph. Carth pressed himself to the floor so that he would not be knocked back by the wind. It ended not at all spectacularly. It mid-laugh, Cortessa suddenly crumpled onto the floor with a thump and everything was stilled. It might have been humorous if it hadn't been real. The medic lay, gasping for breath, in the corner, and his nurse was sobbing into her hands. Mission and Zaalbar were in hysterics and Canderous was motionless.

Carth stumbled forward to gather Cortessa up in his arms. "What happened to her?" he snapped at the poor, confused medic.

"I am not sure!" the medic gasped. "I will go ask the Council!" As he lurched to his feet, the door to the med area opened, and Bastila staggered in, eyes wide and wild.

"HER!" she screeched, pointing a manicured fingernail at Cortessa's unconscious form. "It was _her_!"

"Her _what_?" Carth shouted, pressing Cortessa to his chest, for fear Bastila would try and take her from him. The woman groaned weakly, furrowing her brows and opening her mouth to breathe heavily. She buried her face in his chest, desperate for his comfort, even in her sleep. He gazed down at her for a moment, stroking her hair gently, before he looked back at Bastila. "Leave her alone. She's been through a lot." Even in the horror of it all, he felt it wasn't her fault, and, despite his rising suspicions, he had to help her. He _needed_ to help her.

Bastila flushed angrily, gritting her teeth. "This has nothing to do with you, _Carth_," she hissed. She rested her hands on her hips. "I will not have you jeopardizing anything, do you understand? Hand her over. The Council must see her."

"I won't let you." He felt prepared to protect her to the death, while she was so small and helpless in his arms. Her sly, playful nature was gone, replaced by the raw need for his care. She was strong, but even she had the basic needs of any person.

"You're ridiculous infatuation is becoming very wearying, Carth," snapped Bastila.

Carth gaped. "I am _not_ infatuated!" he shouted, though his voice caught in reluctance. "She is my companion and that alone! We work together for the same cause and I'll be damned if I let a comrade fall just because YOU ask for it, Bastila!"

"If that is what you like to believe, so be it," Bastila growled. "Just give her over."

"No!"

"Carth, listen to her," said Mission unhappily. "If you actually care for her wellbeing you'll let her go so that the Council can make sure she's okay! You saw what she did, Carth. Something's wrong."

"But…"

"Let Corty go. Please."

"Listen to the women, Onasi," said Canderous, snapping out of his silence. "They know more than they let on most of the time."

The silence spread out for the longest time. Carth remained huddled on the floor, cradling Cortessa like an infant. The others stared at him expectantly, waiting for his answer. The nurse had stopped crying and was watching them with fascination; the medic wasn't sure what to do, so he stood in the background pointlessly.

Cortessa shifted. The uneasy expression on her face had faded into a look of peace, and she sighed against Carth's chest. He started and looked down at her, as did everyone else. She made a contented noise and nuzzled her face against his jacket. He flushed slightly, feeling oddly achy and tender inside.

"Carth," said Bastila softly.

Carth swallowed loudly and nodded. "Okay," he said. "Just… don't hurt her."

"I promise, Carth," said Bastila, reaching out her arms for Cortessa.

Carth got to his feet and carefully passed the woman over. Cortessa was a few inches taller than Bastila, and at least thirty pounds heavier. Bastila looked like she was going to collapse beneath the weight, but she used the Force to make her friend lighter. She strode out with Cortessa in her arms.

Carth watched her go, and continued to stare at the point she had vanished long after she was gone. Mission pressed a hand to his shoulder.

"Carth… are you okay?" she said softly.

He gazed down at her for a moment and offered a halfhearted smile. "Yes, I'm okay," he said. He glanced back for a second before he nodded. "Let's get some sleep. It's been a long day."

------

Cortessa was released three days later, early in the morning. She approached the Ebon Hawk at breakfast, just when everyone had gathered in the main hold. When they heard the loading ramp hiss open, they fell silent, looking at each other with wide eyes.

"She is here," said Bastila calmly, allowing her eyes to flutter closed as she returned to her meal.

Mission gasped, her eyes snapping to Carth. He was anxious, gazing at the entranceway expectantly.

Cortessa strode in noiselessly and paused in the entranceway, watching them carefully. Her skin was sallow, her hair was limp and dull, and her eyes were rimmed with shadows, just like they had been during her training. She smiled at them weakly and shrugged inside her robes, which had become too big as she lost weight.

"Hey, guys, I'm back," she said. Her voice was quiet and feeble.

"Cortessa," said Carth softly.

She nodded at him and sat beside Bastila.

"How're you, Corty?" asked Mission brightly, smiling broadly.

"I'm feeling much better, thank you," said Cortessa.

"What happened the other day?" asked Canderous. "You gave Carth a hell of a scare."

"I'm… not… I don't want to talk about it," Cortessa mumbled. She twirled her fork between her fingers. "I… I want to talk about something else."

"Okay," said Mission sympathetically.

Cortessa smiled weakly. "I'm a Padawan now," she said, looking around at them all. "Despite what happened, they think I did well. I'm an actual Jedi."

"Excellent," said Bastila, even though she already knew.

Canderous nodded. "I knew they would accept you," he said. "You're a great opponent."

Mission agreed. Carth wasn't sure what to make of this.

"But I'm not going to follow their ridiculous code," said Cortessa, waving a hand. "No passion, no love, no fun, blah blah blah. I'm going to keep living like normal."

Carth slumped, relieved. Bastila's expression turned sour but she remained silent.

"I have a mission, now," said Cortessa. "The Council wants me to inspect some ruins in the plains."

"What?" Carth said. "Why?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure. He wants me to bring Bastila. Do you want to come?"

"I'm not leaving you alone ever again," he said, before he could stop himself.

She blinked, stunned. A faint flush had come over her cheeks. "Carth…"

"Every time I leave you alone, you get in trouble," he said firmly, ignoring the sickening feeling rising from his gut to his throat. "I swear, it won't happen again." A smile came over his face. "I can't have you dying all the time."

"Oh, of course," she said, waving a hand and laughing.

Despite the levity, the tension in the room boosted several notches.

"So," said Cortessa, clearing her throat awkwardly. "We'll leave tomorrow. I want to rest today."

"So be it," said Bastila, nodding, and there was silence.

------

**Author's Notes: **How cuuute, Carth, you clueless little thing, you. X3 And I know Cortessa isn't reacting at all to the things that are happening to her, like they're normal. Just wait – that is going to be important later. She's not as calm as she makes out to be. There's a Carth-bashing over yonder.

**Ilea Dreike – **Thank you very much. I like the idea of the Canderous father/daughter relationship, too. I also liked his comments on the droid. Even as a wizened adult he's immature.

**FaintlyAlarming **– Thank you, thank you.

**Dark Lord Daishi **– I'm glad you liked the Juhani fight. It was fun to write. And maybe Carth WILL have one, then. DX Just kidding.

… Or am I?

**Child-of-the-Dawn **– I had heard about it already, but it still shocked me, and I laughed for a while. Now I have fun imitating it with my friends. Yeah, we're nerds.

**Dante-Revan **– I made Juhani live for a reason, yes. Also because she's just pretty and I didn't want to have to slaughter her. Cortessa had mercy in her heart TODAY.

**Amme Moto **– I feel a little better. Yay!

**SilverSentinal21 **– You got your romance today. I hope you're happy. There will be more later, and there will be times when there are none, but from now on there will always be something along the lines if you look. So happy happy joy joy. :D

**JadeFalcon3 **– Thank you very much.

**Queenofinsanity **– The image came to me while typing, and I couldn't resist. Canderous is just a bad boy.


	26. Dreams and Ruins

**Savior Self **

_Dantooine part six. _

**Rated PG13 **

**Disclaimer: **And yet again, 'Rated PG14.'

**Savior Self **

The plains were golden and warm the next day. The sun bore down genially; its heat was not oppressing, but comforting. As she gazed out at the plains, Cortessa watched a herd of iriaz wander over the hills, grazing and playing small games of chase. Her lightsaber was clutched in one hand, and her vibroblade was held lightly in her other. Her arm swung slightly as she stood there, smiling.

A pack of kath hounds bounded up the hill, playful and gentle. Carth knelt down and stroked them, and they did not attack him. It was a nice change from their first entrance into the plains. The furry, bizarre creatures yipped in a friendly way, rolling about in the grasses.

Clouds rolled in from all sides, casting the plains in shadow. Cortessa turned her gaze upwards, still and expressionless. Soon, it was but the sun determinedly poking through the clouds and her lightsaber that cast the only light.

The shadows turned the plains grasses dull black. A light draft picked up, teasing the grasses. But then, slowly, the blackness came less from the shadows, and more from the earth itself, until the grass was shriveled and rough.

Carth withdrew his hand from the ground, gazing at the plains with curiosity. Cortessa was still unresponsive to her surroundings, as if she didn't notice, but her arms stopped swinging.

The kath hounds stopped their playful whimpering and gazed at him with yellowing eyes. Their gentle, affectionate nipping turned rough and harsh, until blood burst forth from his hand. Crying out, Carth reeled to his feet and pulled out his blasters, ready to defend himself. The draft turned stronger.

The kath hounds lunged at him and he shot at one. The others back off, hissing and snarling, but quickly turned to Cortessa, who remained motionless, gazing out at the plains.

"Cortessa!" Carth said. "Heads up!"

She did nothing. The kath hounds pounced and drove her to the ground. Carth could only watch in horror as they ripped her to shreds, and she provided no opposition. Blood turned the black grasses red; the plains were bathed in crimson. Eerily, she didn't scream, and the background noise of Dantooine was not there. There was only the distinct ripping of her clothing and flesh, and the hungry snarling of the kath hounds.

"NO!" Carth screamed, but found himself unable to move. His feet were grounded. He lurched forward, but he was held still.

The kath hounds finished and recoiled, shaking their mangy heads. Their white fur had turned a nasty grey; their chins were dripping with gore and blood. They turned their wild eyes to him, their lips curling into feral snarls. Carth could only choke his protests, when suddenly he realized that Cortessa still stood, staring out at the plains, but her robes had turned black, like a Sith's. The blood was still pooled around her feet, but she still lived and stood.

"CORTESSA!"

She glanced back at him. Her eyes were dark blue and unrecognizable, but the pretty face was definitely hers. Only the tops of her shoulders and her bare neck was visible aside from her face; her skin was ashen and her hair oddly dark. A horrid smile flickered over her face.

"They know their master," she said in a chillingly cool voice... Juhani's voice.

Carth struggled with all of his might, but he was frozen. The kath hounds turned to him again and advanced once more, and the world faded away in shades of scarlet.

------

Carth screamed, jerking from his sleep and rolling onto the floor of the Ebon Hawk with a thud. Cold air was sucked into his lungs with searing force, and it took him a moment to adjust. The nighttime darkness faded in and out for a moment before he slowly rose to his feet, trembling, and pressed his back against the wall. He pressed a shaking hand to his forehead and took a deep breath.

"It was just a dream," he muttered. He hated dreams. They had ended a while ago – the pain had been significantly dulled without the nightly reminders. But now his horrors were coming back. He had thought that being in her presence again would end them. He had been wrong.

"You done now?" Canderous asked, gazing at him through the dark.

Carth started violently. "Damn you, Canderous!" he gasped. "You scared half the life out of me!"

"Ah, you were half dead anyway," Canderous muttered, waving a hand. "Go back to sleep, you. Cortessa won't be happy if I let you stay up and go off to the ruins without any sleep."

"Is that all you care about?" said Carth in wonder. "Your… _prestige _with Cortessa?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Why?"

"Nothing." Carth rolled over in his bunk, pulling his blankets tighter around himself and closing his eyes. Sleep came surprisingly easy. Perhaps he hadn't been sleeping enough. But as he drifted off in slumber, he didn't ponder about it.

------

Carth woke again with a start, trembling badly. The second dream that night had struck him harder than the first, filled with vivid details and strong, overwhelming emotions. Even now, he could feel it, as if it had been real. Cold sweat chilled him and he sat up, shaking.

This dream was far worse, entirely different in theme. Again, it was Cortessa, but they were not out in the plains of Dantooine. Instead, they were inside the Enclave, in one of the bunking rooms in the eastern wing. The door had been closed… the room had been hot… and Carth and Cortessa were on the bed. He could hardly believe he could dream of such obscenities – he hadn't for ages, more than a decade. His skin still burned and he could feel her phantom body in his arms, providing false heat; he could still feel the embrace of her legs around his waist, her hissing breath in his ear, her heaving chest against his own.

He wasn't sure what to make of it. He had been loyal to Morgana all this time, and now… now he was having these kinds of dreams, about a Jedi, a Jedi who didn't even care for him. Not that he cared for her – he realized this with a horrible jolt. Anger suddenly replaced the awkward lust, and he lost his face in his hands. Damn her. _Damn_ that Jedi whore. Damn her for crawling into his mind and twisting his thoughts. Fury, overwhelming betrayal rose up in his throat, and he knew then that he couldn't trust her. This dream had guaranteed it. No one was completely loyal; and if she had enough power over him to make him think such things, she was no better than Saul himself.

And that was what mattered.

His security blanket had been returned. He held onto it tighter than ever before.

------

"Are you sure you're up to this?" Cortessa asked, peering concernedly at Carth over the table that morning. "Canderous told me you had a rough night."

Carth shot a glare at Canderous, who hid his smile by stuffing some food in his mouth.

"He doesn't know what he's talking about," said Carth shortly.

Cortessa wasn't convinced. She looked him over thoughtfully, but a bit too closely for his comfort, and he felt a little nervous. He shifted uneasily, very conscious of her eyes wandering too far down his body to just be considering his health. Bastila cleared her throat loudly, unwilling to allow them any slack. Mission pretended not to notice and talked with Zaalbar about kath hounds and iriaz and hunting.

"We're going out today, right after breakfast," said Cortessa, snapping her eyes from Carth and to her food. He lost his nose in his bowl. Mission stared.

"Very well," said Bastila. "Allow me to go prepare. I have finished most of it, so I will not be long."

"Go ahead."

Bastila stood, put away her dishes, and wandered away.

Carth sighed. "I'm going to go make sure I have everything right," he said. "See you in a little while." He got to his feet and left. After a moment he could be heard stumbling and slamming against the wall. Cortessa shook her head sadly.

Mission cleared her throat. "Since Big Z and I don't have anything better to do," she said, "we're going out onto the plains to hunt iriaz. Do you mind?"

"Just watch yourself, okay?" said Cortessa, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Don't listen to anything anyone tells you –"

"Don't talk to strangers and don't pick up candy I find on the street, I know," Mission said, sticking out her tongue.

Cortessa thumped her on the shoulder and sent her off. Zaalbar followed.

Canderous gazed at Cortessa for a moment. "You know, it's getting really obnoxious," he said.

"Hmm?"

"The tension," he said. "Don't pretend like you can't feel it. It's your fault."

She frowned, turning her eyes to him. "Huh? What?"

He snorted. "Last night, all night, he wouldn't stop mumbling about you in his sleep. He kept _moaning _you name and –"

She flushed crimson. "Okay, that's enough!" she said loudly. "I don't need to hear this." She looked away, but her eyes were shining bright. She shuddered, feeling a little ill. "That… that was too much information. I… _Gods_, Canderous. What are you on about?"

"It's none of my business!" Canderous said, throwing up his hands. "I don't care anymore! Never mind!"

"I… I can't believe you! You… GODS. This… I… I want us to get back to our mission. Can we do that?"

"Yes," he said. "Lets. It doesn't matter to me."

She shook her head in disbelief as he got to his feet and walked out. "Dammit," she said breathlessly, and pushed her bangs from her eyes.

------

They walked silently to the ruins. Bastila would speak to neither Carth nor Cortessa, and they certainly weren't going to be speaking to each other any time soon. The tension was high, running beneath the quiet undertones of the plains. Cortessa kept turning her lightsaber on and off, just to break through the silence. Carth kept glowering at her, watching her, even when she offered him smiles. They walked for a long time, until finally a large black shape rose into view. These were the ruins. Cortessa moved forward and paused when they were close enough to touch.

"This is the entrance," said Bastila, pressing her palm to what appeared to be a solid stone wall, grandly decorated with ancient carvings. "I believe the entrance is Force-activated, but I cannot figure out how to work it."

"Let me try," said Cortessa, gently nudging her aside and resting her fingertips against the entrance. She closed her eyes and moaned, feeling the first hints of the dark side taint caress her mind. "Mm… this is strong. Something bad is hidden here." She glanced at them, her eyes shining, a wolfish, possessive grin flickering over her features. "How about it, duckies?"

Carth nodded stiffly. Bastila gave her a tiny frown.

"Do not let the taint of the dark side in this place influence you," she said. "Do remember Juhani."

Cortessa ignored her and set to work. She took her time feeling out the door. A half an hour drifted by effortlessly, and Carth settled down on a rock while he waited. Bastila seemed nervous, shifting her feet anxiously.

Finally, the lock gave way with a roaring thud. Cortessa brushed off her hands, smiling with satisfaction. "There we go," she said.

"I remind you, do not let the dark side influence here affect you," Bastila said, even as Cortessa strode inside. "I can sense something bad about this place, and I do not like it."

"A place is not going to affect me," said Cortessa. "I have self-control."

Bastila frowned. "Arrogance leads to the dark side as well. Already it is warping your mind."

"You're being melodramatic," Cortessa replied. "I've always been like this."

Bastila gaped and looked to Carth for guidance. He shrugged. "She really has," he said.

"You aren't helping, Carth."

"I was supposed to?"

"Look at this," Cortessa said breathlessly, running her hands over the delicately and intricately-designed poles that held the structure up. "Beautiful… and so old… I can feel pain and blood between the cracks… people died building this place."

"What's that, up ahead?" Bastila asked, pointing. In the distance could be seen a crouching figure.

"Arms up," said Cortessa, activating her new lightsaber. Carth checked the safety on his blasters. Bastila gave her own lightsaber a twirl and Cortessa headed forward.

"Who goes there?" she called.

Silence.

They stepped through a doorframe and the figure was cast in light. A droid. It was a droid.

A rotating fan, probably cooling its power core, whirred noisily as the droid turned to face them, its metal feet scraping audibly on the stone floor. It was old – a model Cortessa had never before seen. As she opened her mouth to question it, it began whining and grinding loudly.

Cortessa fell backwards. Carth quickly caught her, pressing his hands to her hips.

"Easy," he said breathily in her ear, his eyes fixed on the droid. Almost violently, he shoved her off of him again, and she stumbled forward a step.

"What is that?" Cortessa asked warily. Usually things that made that noise were about to blow up. She paused to sniff the air for the stench of burning fuel, but there was none. She relaxed a little, nodding and righting herself.

The droid continued to grind loudly. She frowned at it, straining to understand. "I think it's trying to say something!" she gasped then. She looked to Bastila, who nodded.

"I didn't catch it," she said thoughtfully. "Perhaps –"

Suddenly the droid started up again, using different dialect. It sounded strange, a honking, grainy noise. Cortessa listened, but it still didn't sound right. She shook her head at the droid, '_no_.'

The droid tried again. A strange language filtered through, slight with too many 'L' noises. It sounded vaguely familiar, but Cortessa still didn't catch anything. She shook her head.

"I can't understand you," she said.

The droid tried once more, and she recognized the guttural noises of Selkath-speech. She cried out, grinning. "Hey! I got that one!" she said. She looked to Bastila. "Did you? Did you hear it?"

Bastila nodded, slowly. "I recognize this language as well. It is an archaic variant of the Selkath dialect spoken on Manaan. But why would a droid on Dantooine be programmed to speak ancient Selkath?"

Cortessa thought about it. The droid spoke up again. "Communication was vital to ensure that the slaves constructed this temple according to the wishes of the Builders." The droid's censors roved up and down their bodies. "But you are not of the slave species. Neither are you one of the Builders. You are like the ones who came before."

Bastila's mind was on quick-fire. Almost instantly she jumped in. "He must be referring to Revan!" she said. "The Dark Lord and Malak likely encountered this droid when they explored these ruins."

"Shut up, please, 'kay, thanks," Cortessa said. Bastila glowered, falling into a sulky silence. Cortessa turned back to the droid. "What are you? Why are you here?"

The droid told her about the Builders and the slaves, and this place. He told them about Malak and Revan, about the Star Forge (though he gave very little information on this particular subject). Finally, he told them that they must visit the proving grounds on either side to go forward and see what Revan and Malak saw.

Carth looked uneasy. Bastila sighed. Cortessa, however, was eager. "Let's go, then!" she said with vicious anxiousness.

"Wait," said Bastila. She glanced at Nemo, a Jedi that had died nearby. "We have to…"

"Right," said Cortessa, kneeling at Nemo's side. She carefully removed his belongings. "We'll give these to the Council so that they know what happened to him. We can't very well drag his body everywhere with us."

Bastila nodded unhappily. Cortessa pocketed his lightsaber and his robes. That was all the Council would need. She stood and continued on to the room beside her, and they were greeted by a clunky, ancient battle droid. It was easy to kill – the holes in its armor were obvious. It sank to the ground awkwardly and Carth stripped it for parts. Cortessa looked around uncertainly.

"That was our test?" she asked incredulously.

"No," said Bastila. Her eyes roved the room and landed on an ancient consol. She pointed. "There."

Cortessa nodded and, holding her breath, slowly approached it.

------

"What is it?" Cortessa asked, breathless, gazing up at the map with wide, glassy eyes. The glow turned her skin blue; her lips were parted with awe. She reached out a hand to touch it, but her fingertips went right through.

Bastila, too, seemed to be astonished. "This… this must be what Revan and Malak found when they entered this temple…" she murmured. "This must be where their journey down the dark side began." She slowly recoiled.

Cortessa nodded, licking her lips. "Yes, but what is it?"

Bastila studied her, then the map. She frowned. "This is a… a map," she said thoughtfully, with amazement. "Some sort of intergalactic navigational chart. Revan and Malak must have used this to lead them to the Star Forge… We could use this map… to follow their path and find the Star Forge ourselves. But we must be wary… they may have laid traps or concealed what they found."

"Isn't that a little too dark side for you?" Cortessa asked her.

Bastila's glare was piercing. "Not if I am doing it for the sake of good," she snapped. "I am unsure of my plans myself, and we will see the Council about this."

Cortessa shrugged. "But what _is _the Star Forge anyway? What does it do?"

Bastila's voice grew soft. "I don't know… but Revan and Malak were very interested in finding it. It must be a tool of some sort… or maybe a weapon. Perhaps the Council will tell us more. But I think this map might be the key to finding the Star Forge… whatever it is."

"Maybe it's just a durabar factory and they love durabars," Cortessa said.

Carth's mouth twitched. Bastila stiffened visibly and her eyes narrowed. "This is no laughing matter," she hissed. She glanced at the map again. Her eyes turned deeper blue as she considered it, and she reached out to touch it. "Mm… yes. See this world here?" She pointed. "This looks like Korriban… a Sith world… And if that's Korriban, then this is… Kashyyyk… and Tatooine… and here's Manaan!"

"So?"

She ignored Cortessa determinedly. "There are pieces missing… incomplete hyperspace coordinates, corrupted data… and there doesn't seem to be anything indicating where the Star Forge itself might be."

"Maybe the worlds themselves will tell us more," Cortessa offered.

"Perhaps," Bastila agreed. "I was thinking that, too. This map can't take us to the Star Forge, but I know that Revan and Malak visited Korriban at least once… Perhaps they discovered something more there. They may have found something on each of the other worlds that completed this map. Maybe if we find all the pieces they will lead us to the Star Forge… and some way to destroy it."

Carth spoke up. His loud voice startled Cortessa and she watched him reproachfully. "That sounds like quite a supposition. What if you're wrong?"

Bastila cocked an eyebrow. "What if I'm right?" she countered. "We can't ignore this. Finding the Star Forge might very well be the key to defeating the Sith." She nodded to Cortessa. "We must inform the Council of what we have discovered. They must decide our next course of action. I suspect our task has only just begun."

"Sounds like fun," Cortessa said sarcastically.

Carth plugged his datapad into the map core and began downloading.

------

**Author's Notes: **And the story FINALLY gets underway! I don't have much to say about Carth's dream, only that he's going to be whinier than ever. Just wait, man. All of this frustrating crap will build up for a while. Carth-bashing… is… lessee… about three chapters away.

SilverSentinal21 – Oh, you weren't annoying me. Don't be silly. I realize that I sounded really angry but I wasn't. c",) And I'll go deeper into the resurfacing a little while later, don't worry.

Dante-Raven – Beyond the Horizon will feature a male Cathar main character, so that'll be fun, eh? Thank you for your kind comments.

Rattler3 – It was meant to be sort of both. I like to keep my stories open to interpretations. That's the fun of it.

Dark Lord Daishi – Revan won't resurface yet, but she will. Not so early – not so fast.

Amme Moto – Whoa. You really had a dream like that? That IS freaky.

JadeFalcon3 – We'll see, indeed.

DarthNexus9000 – Don't we all? XD I myself have really no idea where this is going. Whatever comes comes, I suppose.

Child-of-the-Dawn – You have about a three-chapter wait. But I promise it'll be worth it.

Queenofinsanity – I've never played through dark side, believe it or not. I'm a baby, too.

Lunatic Pandora1 – Yes, she did, but she returned it. I was wondering if someone was going to ask that – I didn't bother to include it in the fic.

Ilea Dreike – Much later, but yes, it will be explained sometime.


	27. Hidden Plans

**Savior Self**

_It came from Dantooine… oooh… so scary._

_Dantooine part seven._

**Rated PG13**

**Disclaimer: **Um. Uh. Something.

**Savior Self**

They trudged back to the Enclave in silence. There was nothing that could be said; Bastila firmly refused to pick up the matter again. For reasons Cortessa could not fathom, Carth kept giving her angry glares, and turning his shoulder to her, and huffing loudly to himself. It was as if he was angry with her, but for what she could not be sure. Every time she tried to speak to him, he would ask her what her problem was all too briskly, closing off any conversation she may have wanted to start. But when she turned her back, she realized his eyes were fixed on her neck. He was watching her. But why?

They arrived at the Enclave. Bastila firmly dismissed Carth, who scuttled off to the Ebon Hawk. He was intercepted by Mission and Zaalbar, Cortessa noted absently as she started down the hallway, datapad in hand.

Bastila paused outside the Council's door. She glanced at Cortessa and bit her lip. "Ready?"

"No."

Bastila narrowed her eyes, and determinedly pushed open the door.

------

"Corty!" Mission squealed the moment Cortessa stepped onto the loading ramp. She tore down and tackled her adult friend, burying her little blue face in Cortessa's bust. Cortessa, laughing, threw her arms around Mission and kissed her crown.

"Hey, Little Blue!" she said happily. "What's up?"

Mission was in a much better mood after sobbing hysterically out on the plains. She now grinned up at Cortessa genuinely, and held out a hand. Tightly clenched in her hands was another lightsaber.

"Zaalbar picked this up," she said eagerly. "Off some Mandalorian raiders. We wanted to help Jon, and they just happened to be carrying one."

Cortessa checked the lightsaber. It was in okay shape, and when she turned it on it blazed red. She smiled with satisfaction and twirled it in her hand. "Excellent," she said. Now the weight would be even in her hands, and she would fight twice as well. Mission beamed.

"What do you think?" she asked eagerly.

Cortessa smiled. "You're very bright, Mission. Thank you."

Mission, grinning broadly, bounded off, her feet barely touching the floor.

A thought occurred to Cortessa. "Uh – Wait!"

Mission halted and looked back. "Yes?"

"Did you kill them all?"

Mission thought for a moment and nodded. "Yeah," she said. "This guy said he was their leader. Went down easy. Like a gizka with a helmet."

Cortessa laughed. Canderous appeared at Mission's shoulder. "Your Twi'lek here makes a scrappy fighter," he growled. "Train her some and she'll be a formidable opponent."

Mission's headtails flushed with pleasure.

Cortessa nodded at Canderous. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

"It was like stepping on bugs," Canderous said back gruffly. "They were not Mandalorians any longer – just the opposite. Hiding, bloodthirsty beasts with no remaining sense of honor. I simply put them out of their misery."

Cortessa patted him on the shoulder. He merely shifted away and she continued on to the cockpit, where Carth had settled down. She stood behind him and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Carth?"

"What?"

"The Council… they gave me a new mission."

"Okay."

He sounded detached. She frowned down at him sadly and pushed his bangs back. He swatted her hand away stubbornly and glowered down at his feet. Her grip tightened on him and, with an alien strength, she grasped the back of his seat and furiously spun him around to face her. He cried out as she pressed her hands to the armrests, glaring into his face.

"Cortessa!" he gasped.

"If you've got something to tell me, Onasi, you'd better gods-damn say it," she snarled.

Carth blanched, but by some miracle he managed to keep his expression unwavering, his gaze never leaving her face. "Maybe another time," he said in a dark, husky voice.

She flinched visibly, her eyes smoldering. "You bastard," she hissed.

He matched her nasty snarl. "Why don't you tell me your new mission?" he snapped.

"As if you trust me enough to listen!" she said shrilly. He started as she shoved him out of his chair, but she didn't continue after him. Once she was certain he was on the floor, she marched out; moments later he heard Mission berating Cortessa with questions.

Breathless, confused, angry, and humiliated, Carth picked himself off of the floor and sat back down in his seat before he swiveled back around and got to work again.

------

Canderous smirked as he watched Cortessa flit around the ship, gathering her things. "Have a nice little lover's spat, Cortessa?" he called after her as she began hurriedly upgrading her lightsabers.

Her motions suddenly halted. He knew he had done something horribly wrong when she, very, very slowly, set her lightsabers back down on the workbench, her shoulders and neck stiffening. She heaved a heavy sigh, and before he could even speak again, she had driven him against the wall, her elbow in his neck, her nose nearly touching his.

"You _really _need to watch your mouth, _Mandalorian_," she snarled viciously, her eyes flashing and flickering.

Canderous wheezed softly, unable to breathe with her elbow crushing his windpipe.

She released him and continued with her work. Gasping and sputtering for breath, he stalked out. As he glanced back a final time, he grudgingly rubbed his throat.

------

A few minutes later, Bastila strode into the cockpit and began uploading the map they had found to the navicomputer. Carth swiveled around in his chair and watched her unhappily.

"What are you doing?" he asked sharply.

She glanced at him. "I'm uploading our coordinates to the navicomputer," she replied smoothly, her fingers working tirelessly without her even looking at them.

"Why?"

Bastila shrugged, realizing that he sounded wary and confused. So Cortessa hadn't told him. She shook her head and sighed. "The Council gave us a mission, Carth," she murmured. She glanced up at him. "Surely you were told."

"No, I wasn't," Carth said, folding his arms. He distinctly left off the part about Cortessa pushing him out of his chair.

She nodded. "You do not have to remain, however, Carth," she said. "If you wish to leave…"

"No," he said suddenly, firmly; his voice had become slightly husky. "I… got my orders in from the Admiral today."

She didn't say anything, just gazed at him thoughtfully.

He cleared his throat and continued. "She said I need to stick around and help you with whatever crazy mission the Council sends you on. I… I guess I might be of some help."

"That's very considerate, Carth," she said kindly. "You assistance will do us well."

"Don't mention it," he grumbled. He sighed. "So what's this mission, anyway?"

She shook her head. "You will have to ask someone else," she said. "I will say nothing more. It is the Council's wish."

"Come on, Bastila. If I'm going to be helping you, I need to know what we're doing and why. Cortessa –"

Bastila's voice was crisp. "Is none of your business."

"If you won't tell me, I'll go to the Council myself!" he warned.

She turned her back to him and resumed working.

Swearing violently, he got to his feet and marched out of the Ebon Hawk, nearly knocking over Canderous, who, oddly enough, seemed to be clutching his throat. Carth ignored the Mandalorian, striding swiftly out the loading ramp and into the Enclave. He kept his pace brisk, discouraging anyone to try and stop him, and he dodged people who got in his way. On, on, on he went, his unusual fury driving him.

He reached the Council chambers. He slammed an open palm on the wood slat door, and it slid open. The Council simultaneously turned their eyes to him blankly, and while three offered him warm smiles, the fourth snarled meanly. Carth determinedly ignored the old man and, barely allowing his soldier's training to force him to salute and bow, he asked determinedly, "What's this mission you're sending us on?"

"Peace, child," chastised Master Dorak coolly.

Carth flushed angrily. "You have to tell me. You have to tell me what this has to do with Cortessa. If not… at least tell me why I'm leaving –"

"We understand that you are bound to Padawan Blatt," said Master Zhar gently, trying to soothe Carth's frustration. "But she will tell you in due time. You must not worry and trust in the Force."

Carth snarled. "Look, I respect what you Jedi do, but if I'm going to be carting her around for gods know how long, I need to know why!"

They were silent.

He resisted the urge to stamp his food like a child. He trembled for a moment and took a deep breath. "Why won't you tell me?" he pleaded.

Master Vrook spoke up then, keeping his expression unwavering. "We understand that your relationship with our Padawan is a shaky one, wrought with fervor and passion. Do not act on your emotions. Allow her to lead you."

Carth's mouth twitched into a snarl. "Fine," he hissed, and marched out. The door slammed shut behind him, but not before he heard Master Zhar say softly, "There's trouble in that one."

He leaned against the wall and lost his face in shaking hands before he drew a slow, shaking breath, and made his way back to the Ebon Hawk.

------

**Author's Notes: **Everyone's on their wit's end and they're going to explode at the slightest thing because they're so stressed. You know what that means. NOT YET, DEARS, BUT SOON. I'm sorry I've been gone so long – I went on a trip and besides that I've been really busy at school with academic competitions, spelling bees, plays, visiting authors, and field trips. Fun, fun, fun.

DarthNexus9000 – I won't reveal my plans, but my plot considering what planets come when is already quite solid. Thank you very much, though, for the consideration. I always look forward to suggestions.

godessofwisdom – We're all looking forward to the Carth-bashing. XD Cortessa's joke-making is meant to be fun, mostly for me so that I can shut off my brain for a second while writing.

Amme Moto – You've got about one more chapter to wait. But you'll get your wish.

Child-of-the-Dawn – I thought so. Thanks for letting me know – I was a little scared for a second.

Ilea Dreike – Yeah. I love making fun of Carth. He's going to get into all sorts of trouble, poor guy.

Dante-Raven – I'm flying by my pants. I don't know what I'm doing. XD That's the fun of it. I make it up as it comes. If I had it all pre-planned it just wouldn't be so fun. Canderous is fun to animate; he doesn't get enough attention. None of them do – only Carth and Atton and Bastila, for obvious reasons.

FaintlyAlarming – YAY FOR THINGS THAT END IN –AY!

Rattler3 – Cortessa is a pwner.

SilverSentinal21 – Can't reveal what the dream was about. I know it's normal for guys to think of sex, and Carth does like a normal guy will do, but he's never thought of that so clearly about someone so close to him in a while so he's kind of like, 'holy crap what was that?' you know?

JadeFalcon3 – Sho you righ'.

Queenofinsanity – I don't have problems with it in stories, I don't know why… I think it's because I get to use more cruel irony and various other things in writing other than just being mean.

Lunatic Pandora1 – Nope, she doesn't. She has that Mandalorian's lightsaber. Ain't she spiffy?

Dark Lord Daishi – Perhaps it's foreshadowing. Maybe it's not. We'll have to seeeeeeee. ;D


	28. Again With The Dreams

**Savior Self **

_Dun dun DUUUUUNNNN… _

_Dantooine part eight. _

**Rated PG13 **

**Disclaimer: **Nope.

**Savior Self **

_Revan reached out and touched the child's cheek, gently, feeling the soft pallid flesh. The baby slept, unaware, its chubby face set with angelic serenity. _

_"How… delicious," Revan hissed. "How… intriguing." _

_"Revan," said Malak. _

_"Hush," she murmured, sliding her fingers down to the babe's throat. _

_"Revan," said Malak again, with more urgency. _

_She whirled around and slapped him smartly across the face. He staggered slightly, his teenage face twisted with pain. He snarled softly as she turned away from him again, his eyes burning with hatred and envy. He rubbed his cheek darkly and said nothing more as she lifted the baby and held it to her breast as if to feed it, but the dear thing was still asleep. _

_She again drew a tender finger over the babe's cheek. "She's just a little new thing," Revan murmured, kissing the child's forehead, "and already I can feel the Force in her." She moaned. "Oh, it's strong." _

_"What are you doing?" _

_Revan's eyes snapped up; her pretty mouth twisted into a feral sneer as a young woman strode into the room. Her blond hair twisted about her in waves – behind her strode several other people, all looking vaguely familiar. One was Echani… the other was a man; another blond woman bounced between them, but faded into nothing a moment later. _

_"Ah, Atris," said Malak lazily. "Bringing your lackeys with you yet again? What's this… _Kavar? _I would have thought you _better_." _

_Revan flinched and whirled around again to this time slap Malak with such a fury that he stumbled and reeled and hit the ground. "Fool!" she shrieked, and stamped on his hand before she kicked him in the gut. He moaned with pain and she gripped him by the scruff of the neck, heaving him cruelly to his feet so that she could scratch his face. "You remain silent while I stand before someone! Do you hear me?" _

_"YES'M!" he barked, though the cold lack of sincerity in his eyes was enough. _

_She stamped on his foot before she turned to face the group before her. Instead of the Echani woman, the Jedi Council stood with an aged, brown-skinned man kneeling with his back to them. _

_"Traitor," Revan said in a voice that was not her own. "Kill him." _

_The baby woke. _

_The man gasped, sputtered and choked, and fell back, dead. A grim-faced Dorak heaved him up and dragged him off, mourning softly. Vrook remained impassive. Bastila shoved forth, eyes wild. "You cannot do this!" she shrieked, searching the room desperately, frantically, blindly. Her forget-me-not eyes were dull and blank. "Stop this! Stop!" _

_Juhani tried to drag her back. "You cannot," she murmured gently. "It is Revan –" _

_"REVAN!" _

_Revan said nothing. _

_Bastila sank to her knees, shaking with sobs. The walls turned red; blood seeped from the ceiling. Malak was laughing, laughing, laughing… Revan glanced at him, eyes burning, and made to strike him again before Carth appeared then. _

_"Don't do this… not today…" _

_Revan stared. He reached for the baby – she stepped back instantly, sharply. Carth still pleaded. _

_"Stay… stay…" _

_"What are you talking about?" _

_"Don't…" _

_"Who the hell are you?" _

_"… hurt me…" _

_The baby began to cry. Carth's words faded. And the baby cried… cried… cried… _

_Cried… _

------

_The night was cold. Bastila stood with her face turned up towards the moon; she heaved a heavy sigh and shook her head. The moon was golden. Blood was to be shed. Kath hounds bounded together in the distance, unnaturally large, and faded in a howling mass. Two stars glinted side-by-side near the horizon, which was slowly fading blood red as the sun set. The full moon, golden… laughing… began to bob, slowly. The grass rustled loudly, filling the air with a gentle hissing. Hissing… hissing… hissing… until it turned into a deep, rolling chuckle, laughter… And the air was filled with laughter; the moon laughed. It turned, and Juhani's face appeared, her face twisted into a snarl. _

_"Your destiny," she said. _

_Bastila fell to her knees. _

_"You know." _

_"No." _

_"You lie. You lie to your other half. You are a broken woman. She is broken." _

_Bastila shuddered. _

_"You killed her." _

_"I DIDN'T!" _

_The twin stars burned bright and began to grow until they took the shape of two children, a boy and a girl. They screamed and bled, burning… burning… and they fell in a colorful streak to the ground below. Bastila ran to catch them, even when she saw nothing but a flame in the distance that was their carnage. She ran… ran… ran… And never got any closer. She could hear them crying for her, crying to her to save them… Crying… crying… crying… _

_Crying… _

------

The Ebon Hawk was silent that morning. Carth sat in the main room, staring at his empty caffa cup with some detached fascination, deciding vaguely to fill it but making no move to do so. His arms felt heavy; he doubted he would be able to lift his cup even if he did find the motivation to get to his feet and shuffle over to the caffa maker. Still in the morning quiet he could hear Canderous snoring as loudly as a bantha down the corridor, and T3-M4's wheels as the astromech droid made his way to the engine room. Carth loved ships, but the Ebon Hawk held this unfamiliar, oppressing quality, almost as if it demanded to be lived in and used to its full extent. He wondered apathetically if the ship was alive, if the Force flowed through it, and the damn scrap of metal would demand a life of adventure until it was finally melted down into slag. Just by studying the carbon scoring it had already taken, it seemed likely. The Ebon Hawk suddenly seemed like a breathing animal, carrying them like a loving mother but guiding them eagerly right into danger's eye.

It seemed danger followed Carth Onasi and his companions. Already they were going to face another evil, all over again. Cortessa was a greenhorn, true, and knew nothing and had seen little, but the way she fought… she not only understood combat, she understood _battle_, _war_. And that was why he couldn't trust her. She didn't know things about herself that she should, she kept secrets, lied. And she –

His thoughts were interrupted by two identical crashes towards the girls' barracks. Carth rose to his feet, prepared to check it out, when Bastila whirled by him in a colorful flurry of pink pajamas, an olive-colored robe, and a patchwork quilt that she had slung hastily around her shoulders. She marched into the cockpit and vanished.

Cortessa appeared then, not even glancing at Carth as she strode by, buttoning up her blouse with her robes between her teeth. She paused, pulled her clothes out of her mouth, and told him emotionlessly, "Don't ask." She then vanished, leaving him puzzled and even angrier than before.

Now more awake, he grudgingly made himself some breakfast and sat back down. But half-way through, abhorrent Canderous appeared. Carth furiously stabbed the food on his plate with a knife, pleading mentally that the Mandalorian didn't bother him that morning.

But Canderous sat down and smiled mildly, and Carth knew there was no escape. He winced with self-pity, sinking into his seat and sulkily picking at his food, realizing now that what had been his small appetite was gone.

"Hey, Republic."

"Canderous," said Carth stiffly.

Canderous cocked an eyebrow calmly. "What's the matter, Republic? Can't take the heat?"

Curiosity struck him despite his attempts to repress all feelings. Carth's eyes flickered up and he knew now as Canderous's gaze held his that he had been caught. "Heat?" Carth echoed.

Canderous shrugged, sitting back in his chair. "Eh, well, never mind," he said. "If you can't take her, you can go. I'm sure your Admiral will understand your anxiety issues."

Carth stiffened. "What?"

"Make up your mind about how you feel, alright? Stop being a baby about it. It's really starting to get on my nerves and you can't fly a ship while you're practicing staring at her ass and then glaring at your feet. You keep your eyes on the shift stick, you get it?"

"HEY!"

"It's tiring. I thought I might be able to respect you for being a warrior, but you're tamer than a gizka." To emphasize his point, Canderous spat on the floor. "Pathetic."

"What?"

"She doesn't get you, you know. She's kind of the same way, but instead of not trusting you, she just hates you for every other thing you do."

Carth narrowed his eyes. "You've been talking to her?"

Canderous blinked, and laughed with an obnoxious, airy coolness. He brushed off a speck of dust from his sleeve. "_Nah_," he said, though his smoky eyes sparkled at the potential mischief. "I just call 'em when I see 'em. Ask Mission."

Carth ground his teeth for a moment before, with a rare sense of self-control, he got to his feet and strode from the room.

------

_I have to find out why she was in my dream_, thought Cortessa as she strode with urgency through the Enclave. _I have to find out why this total stranger has found her way into my subconscious thoughts. _And then she wondered, _could it be Bastila's fault_? It seemed likely, and most certainly possible, now that it seemed she and Bastila were sharing dreams. As was expected, Juhani stood in the main garden, holding herself upright with some dutiful tranquility. She looked up as Cortessa neared, as if she had been waiting for her all along, and her amber-and-orange eyes flashed with recognition and respect. They no longer held the tainted yellow of the dark side.

"Juhani," said Cortessa.

Juhani bowed and smiled up at her fondly. She was very beautiful – her fur was a pleasant mix of gold and tawny, striped with ginger with a curling cream spot on her throat and chest. She flattened her ears to skull with respect; the beads in the lobes jangled audibly and the beads in her topknot clinked softly in the wind. The two women shook hands; the Cathar's grip was firm, warm, and friendly, and she was considerate enough to keep her claws retracted despite her nervousness. She smoothed out her robes over her generous figure and murmured in her attractive, deep, rolling voice, "I must give you my thanks. Because of you, I am once again welcome within the Jedi Order."

Cortessa nodded. "Have you spoken to the Council?" she asked conversationally.

Juhani gave her head a quick jerk to the side as if to shake an unpleasant sound from her ear. She drew her tongue over her fangs and her nose gave a nearly undetectable twitch. "Yes. They have helped me to see the truth. The truth about myself, and the truth of my actions." She took a deep breath, her eyes turning dark for a moment before she continued with a mix between resentment and relief. "Quatra's injuries were not so severe as I first believed. I was foolish to believe that I could harm a Master such as she with my… my clumsy efforts." She laughed at herself, softly, shaking her head. "The fierce confrontation between us was nothing more than a part of my training. Quatra wanted me to understand the threat of the dark side, to see how easy it was to fall from the path of the light."

"And you have forgiven her?"

The slit-like pupils of Juhani's eyes turned fearsomely small for a moment before she returned to normal. "Yes," she said in a dark voice. "Of course."

Cortessa nodded. "Where is Quatra now?"

Juhani sighed and massaged her temples. "After our last battle, Quatra had nothing left to teach me. I needed time alone to explore the turmoil of my own spirit. Only then was I ready to follow a guide – you – back to the light." She smiled at Cortessa for a moment before she returned to her solemn mumbling. "When I left, Quatra knew her work with me was done. There are other disciples who need training throughout the galaxy, and she could not stay to see if I passed this most difficult trial." Her voice turned angry with these last words, but she quickly stifled it with an audible gulp. She bowed again to Cortessa. "With your help, I have passed this most difficult trial. The Council now feels I am ready to continue with my training. I do not know what our mission together will bring, but I will trust in the Force and the way of the Jedi to help me through whatever is to come."

"Are you ready to go, Juhani?" Cortessa asked, now having forgotten about the dream that had led her to come to Juhani in the first place. When the Council had given her her mission, they had suggested she take Juhani. And she would take Juhani. They needed all the help they could get.

Juhani's eyes widened with anticipation. "Yes!" she said, breathlessly, with a sudden eagerness. "That is why I was waiting for you here!" She grabbed a large satchel and a shoulder bag from the bench behind her before she bowed again and nodded. "I am ready."

Cortessa smiled warmly. "Good," she said. "Then let's go."

------

**Author's Notes: **A greatly-needed update. Juhani's aboard now, permanent-like. Or at least yeah. Anyway. Extremely short chapter, I'm sorry. But the next one is so totally worth it. XD That's right – CARTH-BASHING AHEAD! By the way - yay for me for having 40 stories now.

**Amme Moto** – Cortessa's very mood-swingy, yes. XD It's fun trying to decide what to make her say next.

**Lunatic Pandora1** – Carth is just a pissy guy. He needs to know everything or he can't trust anybody. Because he sucks like that. But we'll whip him into shape. ;o

**Queenofinsanity** – It's meant to look dark side. –shifty eyes-

**SilverSentinal21** – Juhani was hiding for a second, but I brought her around. I always thought the Jedi were peaceful and kind of submissive so if Carth came marching in to question them they'd be all, 'okay come in but you won't get anything this is a lesson kiddo' and Carth will get even madder because they're not telling the truth.

I'm making Carth wild and emotional so that he'll blow up more realistically before he gets bashed into the floor.

Yeah…

Also, about Bastila. I don't know how to handle her. DX So I'm just kind of stuffing her in the shadows for a little while until I can figure out what to do with her.

**JadeFalcon3 **– Whiny and schizo? That's good. That's what I'm sort of aiming for. XD And I am so glad you noticed the blue-red lightsaber thing.

**Dark Lord Daishi** – Hahaha. XD We'll see.

**Child-of-the-Dawn **– You so funny!

**Dante-Raven** – You know, that gave me an idea. So thanks. XD

**Ilea Dreike** – Corty pwnz everyone. When she wants to. Usually. Not always. Yeah. Anyway. Rock on.


	29. Carth Go Splat

**Savior Self **

_SNAP SCENE! WOO! Aboard the Ebon Hawk, Section One. _

**Rated PG13 **

**Disclaimer: **Yawn.

**Savior Self **

They spent several more days on Dantooine, mostly helping those who asked for help before they left. After Taris, Cortessa was overcome with the need to assist everyone who asked for it. She helped the Sandrals and the Matales, found Elise's droid (and destroyed it, though Canderous playfully suggested that Cortessa herself may like to keep it), told Jon of the Mandalorians, and solved various other small problems before Cortessa deemed it worthy time to leave.

The night of their departure, the entire crew gathered around the main hold. Carth remained stonily quiet in his protest against Cortessa, who seemed to be more or less ignoring him in return. Bastila stood beside Juhani and they seemed like similar statues, in identical, unwrinkled Jedi robes and backs straight, faces set with serene consideration and hands clasped politely behind them. Carth and Canderous also were very similar with their legs spread and feet planted firmly on the ground, shoulders hunched in surly weariness and brows furrowed as they studied the map Cortessa had set out before them.

"Okay," Cortessa said, pressing her finger to the map. "Korriban is a Sith planet, so that's our best bet. But we're not going there first. I don't think I've learned enough about the Force to be able to stand a Sith planet." She glanced up for a second. "Got that?"

Canderous yawned.

Cortessa rolled her eyes and jabbed another planet on the map. "We'll take Tatooine relatively soon, but not right away. We need supplies first… we're _not_ going to Manaan –"

"Why not?" Carth asked.

She glared at him for a moment. "Never you mind," she snapped. "But we're most definitely going to Manaan last. I'd rather weather through a Sith planet before –"

Mission cocked an eyebrow. "What? Afraid of Selkath?"

Cortessa sighed and said nothing. "Alright. That leaves Kashyyyk," she said, changing the subject. "Considering that it's settled by Czerka and it's Zaalbar's home world, we'll be going here first."

Zaalbar sighed softly, but said nothing. Mission glanced at him uncertainly.

Canderous, eager for an excuse to leave the group, bolted at this news, probably to resume working on the swoop bike, which was still in terrible shape. T3-M4 followed him, softly beeping something about helping the Mandalorian. Carth shuffled for the cockpit silently; Bastila went to bed. Juhani, as always, huddled in her little corner and shut the door so that she would not disturb anyone else. Mission decided to try and help Canderous with whatever he was doing, which left Zaalbar and Cortessa alone.

Zaalbar shifted uneasily. "Cortessa?" he mumbled apprehensively.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Yes, Zaalbar?"

For a moment she thought he would comment on going to his homeworld. But he did not. Instead, he shook his mangy head and murmured, "I sense much trouble in the male."

She frowned. "Which one?"

"The one you call Carth."

She nodded thoughtfully. So she hadn't been imagining it. Carth definitely had something going on. She glanced at Zaalbar cautiously. "What do you think should be done?"

Zaalbar puffed out his chest. "I believe you may fix him. You are a great leader that hears the voices of her company."

She smiled and patted his hairy arm. "Thank you, Zaalbar," she said softly. "I've been meaning to talk to him anyway."

Zaalbar nodded courteously and left as quietly as he could, though his heavy feet made total silence impossible. Cortessa stood there a moment, considering what she would say, before she slowly made her way to the cockpit.

Carth didn't look up when she came in. Instead, he just began pushing buttons and flipping switches randomly in hopes of appearing busy.

She wasn't fooled. "Carth," she said.

He sighed and swore softly under his breath. "Yes?" he forced himself to ask.

She strode forward and stood behind him, digging her nails into the back of his chair. She didn't look at him as she said, "You've been awful cold towards your crew recently."

He determinedly kept his tone gentle and casual. "Have I? I suppose I have." His eyes flickered to her face and his expression grew hard. "I guess I just don't like being left out of the loop."

Bastila soundlessly strode by them and sat down in her place at the co-pilot's seat. Not wanting to strike up another fight with Carth in front of her, Cortessa tried to stab for humor. "You were born out of the loop."

Carth turned around to face her, slouching in his chair and folding his arms over his chest. He snarled at her without amusement. "Real cute," he griped. "If you got any cuter, you'd pass for a Gamorrean's sister."

Cortessa shrugged. "Better than a Gamorrean's mother."

Carth flinched. "Look, I'm serious," he snapped. "No one seems to want to tell me anything, and it's starting to irritate me."

Cortessa was listening. "What won't they tell you?"

He seemed eager to tell her. He sat up again. "For one thing, I want to know what the Jedi Council said to you. They pulled you in there and refused to tell me a thing about it!"

Bastila, too, had been listening. She looked up, eyes flashing. "_That_ is _none _of your concern, Carth, and you would do well to _leave the matter be_."

Carth wrinkled his nose at her. "I respect you, Bastila, but you've been as close-mouthed as the rest of the Council. If you won't talk to me, then maybe someone else will."

Cortessa tried desperately to steer the conversation away from almost certain doom. She leaned forward and brushed Carth's bangs from his face; he slapped her hand away immediately. Still, she remained composed and said, "Poor baby. Do you need filling in?"

The expression on his face stunned her. A look of utter loathing flitted across his features and a low growl rose from his throat. She heard his teeth grinding and knew something was horribly wrong. But before she could apologize, he spoke. "Why are we leaving?" he snarled.

She blinked, deciding it best to tell the truth. "They thought it was more important that I help find the Star Maps than stay."

Bastila threw up her hands and stomped out. Neither Carth nor Cortessa noticed.

Carth sneered nastily. "And why is that? You were a great help on Taris, but why would they keep you with us? Don't they have to train you?"

She bristled, eyes flashing. "They _have_, you moron. What else have I been _doing_ here for the past three months?"

He stood up. She took a step back, squaring her shoulders to try and stand up to his height, but she was still pathetically small in comparison. "I always heard that they trained Jedi longer than just three months," he hissed back in dangerously soft voice.

She let her teeth click together. "So you _want_ to stick around for fifteen years?"

"That's not the point!" he shouted.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" she shouted back, shoving him. He had good balance, but the sudden attack surprised him and he took a step back. He quickly caught himself and stood there, staring at her, breathing heavily. The tension made the air feel hot; Cortessa swore loudly and paced in a small circle, raking her fingers through her hair. When she was finished, she looked up at him and growled. "Now, will you let me finish?"

He nodded hesitantly.

"Good." She paused, taking a deep breath to compose herself. "They said there's a bond between Bastila and myself –"

He cut her off again, eyes wide. "A bond?" he repeated. "What kind of bond? You mean to say that they told you you were 'tied' to Bastila in some way?" His tone became bitter. "Heh. I have trouble believing that."

She felt a feral, pulsing need to rip his throat out rise in her gut and she clenched her fists.

He kept talking. He was now the one pacing. "You're a neophyte Padawan who's been saddled with the responsibility of tracking down these Star Maps. Why? That's not _normal_."

"I'm not a normal person," she rasped.

His eyes met hers with wry humor. "I noticed."

Before she could stop herself, she threw herself at him. He cried out, gripping her wrists before she could claw his eyes out, and she responded by kicking him in both shins in rapid succession. He hissed with pain and thrust her off of him. She hit the ground with an audible thud, but was on her feet again within moments. She nursed her wrists, glaring at him with a look in her eye that suggested a caged, wild animal.

"I'm not trying to provoke you," Carth told her. "I'm not trying to cause trouble or blame you, but give me a hand, here! There has to be a reason!"

Her sides heaving as she breathed, she said in a deep voice, "I've… been… _trying_… to… tell… you… _dumass_."

He said nothing, though his face was suddenly devoid of all emotion.

"Since you obviously won't listen, I just won't say!" she barked, suddenly raising her voice. "I already told you! Bastila and I have a bond! We have to do this together! And what I say is –"

He scowled. "And what does that mean?" he breathed angrily. "Is this more of that destiny garbage the Jedi keep talking about? Well, that can't be it!"

A strangled scream rose in her, but she was too furious to even move.

"I'll tell you this much, I am _not_ going to wait around until I'm betrayed again!"

Cortessa wavered. "I am notgoing to betray you," she said in a soft, quivering voice. She took a deep breath and screamed, "I'm _not Saul_!"

Carth snarled once more. "Well, we'll see about that, now, won't we?"

She attacked him again. This time he was prepared, and ducked. He backed up as she whirled around and lunged at him, driving them both to the floor. She ripped at his face, his neck, his clothing, anything she could reach, eyes wild. Gasping, he tried to push her away, but she bit his fingers with enough fierceness to make them bleed. He writhed desperately, sure that if his larger size would be enough to dislodge her, but she stuck to him. If he tried to buck, she rose and fell with him smoothly. "WHAT DO YOU KNOW, YOU STUPID BASTARD?" she shrieked. Instead of claws, a fist drove between his eyes. The world flashed black for a moment; Carth moaned with pain. She kept screaming. "HOW WOULD YOU KNOW ANYTHING! YOU KNOW NOTHING OF PAIN! YOU KNOW NOTHING! _NOTHING_!"

He reached for his blaster; she knocked it from his hand and backhanded him across the jaw. He bit down and tasted blood. Then she stood, and he hoped fleetingly that she was finished. But instead she began kicking him, over and over and over as hard as she could, screeching and snarling. The wind was knocked from him and the ground no longer felt solid. He struggled for air but could not draw any breath. Her toe connected with his nose with a sickening, audible crack. Blood splattered over his face, blinding him, running into his mouth to choke him; he gagged. _She's going to kill me_. The thought struck him hard, and he drew himself into a ball, covering his face. She slashed at his hands a few more times, trying to see if he would break, but he remained on the defensive. He could hear her gasping for breath, spitting the blood and bile from her mouth. He remained utterly still, and finally she relented, stumbling and crashing into the wall. She braced herself on the navicomputer, clutching her side and refusing to look at him.

After a moment of stowing his pain away, Carth staggered awkwardly to his feet. He leaned against the wall, wiping the blood from his mouth and gingerly feeling for broken bones or bruises. He felt she may have broken his nose, but right now he couldn't be sure. All of him hurt.

He heard a faint rasping, shaking noise. He looked up and glanced at the consol. Perhaps something had gone wrong during their fight. But everything looked normal. Then, he realized, the sound was coming from Cortessa. He looked to her, too quickly, and winced at the pain that shot through his neck. He saw her shoulders, saw her trembling, and realized coldly that she was crying. She had just beaten him up, her, a woman, and she was crying.

Carth didn't know what to do. He stood there for a moment, trying to see clearly. But she was definitely crying – he could see the tears falling to the floor. "What's wrong?" he finally asked, stupidly, for reasons he couldn't identify. The last thing he had expected to say after having the living hell beat out of him was, "What's wrong?" He was shocked at himself.

She sank to her knees and lost her face in her hands. "You… d-dumb bastard," she groaned, her voice unusually deep.

Carth tried to take a step towards her, but his legs gave way and he fell to the ground. He just lay there, deciding it wasn't worth taxing his beaten body to try and reason with her. She hugged herself, shuddering and sobbing. Carth stared, amazed. He had never seen her cry. Never. Not once. The sight of her breaking down now chilled him to the bone.

Somehow she looked beautiful when she cried. Most women looked ugly when the waterworks turned on, but not her. Her eyes didn't turn red and puffy and her lips didn't stick out in the familiar pout. Even the blood splattered on her face didn't distract from her magnificence. There were few women in the world who could pull off what Cortessa Blatt was doing now.

_Morgana_, Carth thought sadly. But the very idea was stifled immediately. He couldn't think of Morgana, not with this girl crying before him, not with his body broken by the same girl. Somehow, he wasn't sure how, he dragged himself to his hands and knees and made his way over to her. It was slow and painful, and he wasn't sure why he was approaching the very woman who had beaten him senseless moments ago, but there he lay beside her, while she cried softly. She didn't look at him, and instead began furiously wiping away her tears.

Carth reached out and pressed his hand to hers. She flinched, growling low in her throat, but the tears choked the noise and she sobbed again.

"What's wrong?" he repeated, quietly, gently, as if coaxing a frenzied animal from its cage. "You can tell me."

She stared at him with wide, angry eyes. "You idiot," she breathed. "You moron. I just kicked the poodoo out of you and you want to talk about _my _problems? Look at you! You're covered in blood! You're broken! Your jacket…" She faded out, absently reaching out and almost tenderly fiddling with one of the straps on his jacket, tears blurring her vision. "I ruined your stupid gods-damn jacket."

He didn't know whether to laugh or scream. Stunned, he remained utterly still.

She stood again, gazing down at him with a new light in her eyes. He stared back, now aware of the dull aching in his gut. She had kicked him too hard, but there was nothing that a little of Bastila's Force healing couldn't fix. Cortessa pushed her bangs back; her thick, dark hair had fallen out of its customary braid. She ran her fingers through it to calm the ratty mess, crying with more intensity and frustration as it refused to be tamed. Finally, she just pushed it back, though it fluttered over her shoulders again. Carth's breath caught.

"Fine," she mumbled, looking miserable. "Listen up." She paused, taking a deep breath, and closed her eyes. When she had composed herself, she spoke again. "All these things have been happening… all these things, all at once. It's too much, and… I'm sorry for snapping. But these things… they're so scary. I have nightmares… I know things I shouldn't know, I can do things I've never done. That swoop bike? I've never driven so much as a land speeder before, and yet look what I managed to do. I beat the last three decade records, Carth. _The three last gods-damn decade records_. That's two generations I've skipped doing something I've never done. The Force came too easily. Other Padawans are trained in years, decades. I learned in three months. Less than three months. And I can control it as good as Bastila – maybe even better. I can see the faults in her techniques all on my own."

Carth said nothing. He couldn't breathe. Yet, somehow, he didn't mind, and his head seemed suddenly very clear.

She shook her head. The tears had stopped, but her lips still trembled and she looked like she was going to break at any moment. "Taris. Oh, gods, _Taris_. I think I still have nightmares, Carth. I wake up screaming and screaming and screaming… When we left, I barely held it together. I could _feel _it, Carth! I could _feel _the people dying! I could _feel _them!" She lost it again for a second, wavering and hiccupping, but then she pressed a hand to her mouth and found her breath again. "When I woke up it was just that pain… it… it was sickening. I couldn't grasp it… it… I-I know Bastila felt it, too. But it was like a million voices screaming and then suddenly going silent or… or… or going up in flames and suddenly being doused or… or falling forever and suddenly stopping. I felt like I was dying over and over again… like it would never end… like the pain would go on and on forever… Normally I like it. It gives me a thrill. But that's only when one person is dying. Imagine billions, Carth. It's…" She broke off, retching.

He closed his eyes, looking away for a moment to compose himself.

But then she pressed on, as if she needed to get this out, had to get it out. "I… I feel strange. Like I'm not myself most of the time. And different faces bring around different sensations. I feel like I've been here before. I feel like I've seen Bastila before. I feel all these things I just shouldn't." She met his gaze solidly and he froze. "I'm scared."

The mere idea of Cortessa being scared sobered him completely. He took a single breath, and could do nothing more. Slowly, he rose to his feet, though his body screamed in protest.

She watched him, eyes wide. "See?" she gasped. "See what I did? I would never do that. Never!" She stumbled backwards, tripping over herself, and fell to the ground.

Carth couldn't see Cortessa anywhere. This girl sitting before him, wide-eyed and pale-faced, was not her. This was not the horrible monster who had ripped him to shreds minutes ago. This was not the saucy, playful woman he had met on the Endar Spire. This was not the strong and cunning war hero. This was not Cortessa. This was a child, an unfamiliar child, lost to herself with no one to confide in as she stared up at him desperately with those haunting blue eyes.

He couldn't say anything. He didn't know what to say, even if he could have spoken.

She got up again, holding herself. Never had she seemed more vulnerable. "Just let me go," she muttered. "When I wake up I might be better."

Slowly, she began shuffling out. And a single word rose to his lips. "Cortessa."

She whirled around and, before he could even think, there was blackness.

------

Carth woke to a bright light and soft voices. The moment he had opened his eyes, he shut them tight again and let out a soft moan. His body still throbbed dully with pain; he didn't want to move. He felt a gentle hand on his arm, felt five claws barely pressing against his flesh. He panicked, and then remembered Juhani.

_Juhani_. Was she healing him? What about Bastila? And Cortessa? The thought of Cortessa frightened him more and he felt his breath quicken, hurting his sore chest. The memories rushed to him, her face, her angry face and the tears rolling down her cheeks, her sharp fingernails against his face… Where was she? He tried to sit up, but he hurt too much.

"Peace, Carth," Juhani murmured to him, like a mother soothing a child. "You are well. You were very badly beaten but I was able to arrive in time to help you."

Carth opened his eyes again, slowly, scowling against the light of the medbay. Vaguely, he could see the shapes of Canderous and Bastila near the cot, but he couldn't see them clearly. He opened his mouth, but no sound came.

Canderous spoke, sounding smug and amused. "You got your ass kicked."

Carth, somehow, found the strength to rasp, "Shut up."

Bastila sniffed at him. He pointedly ignored her. Canderous nudged her and she sighed audibly before muttering, "Carth, what happened?"

"Not yet," Juhani said immediately. "He is not ready. His nose is still healing and he is very badly bruised. Do not make him speak – it will tax him too greatly."

Carth was grateful for Juhani's tender care. Though it hurt to breathe, the pain was not as horrible as before. Whenever he moved his head fuzzy spikes shot down his spine and blinded him for a moment. He wanted to feel his head, but his arms felt too heavy. "Am… I… die…?" he managed to gasp.

"No, Carth, you are not going to die," Bastila snapped. "Don't be so –"

"Bastila, hush," Juhani said harshly. "You are not aiding his recovery at all."

"If he wouldn't pick fights with Cortessa, then –"

"Bastila," Juhani growled, her voice dangerously quiet, "I suggest you leave me to my work. He does not need your bullying and it might slow his progress."

Canderous piped up again with malicious glee. "You got your ass kicked!"

Carth fumed silently.

Juhani ushered Canderous and Bastila out and returned to Carth's side. He could feel her gentle, deft hands wandering over his body, feeling his wounds and occasionally adding some more Force healing. "You are recovering very well," she murmured. "I am amazed."

Carth took a deep breath and managed to utter another word. "Cortessa?"

Juhani's eyes flashed. "Yes," she muttered. "She is physically unharmed. But she will not tell us what happened. We are hoping that, once you recover, you will be able to share." She paused, feeling the back of his head with fingers so light they seemed but a tickle from the breeze. He could hear her clucking softly in disapproval. "You took a heavy blow to your head. Perhaps with something heavy and solid… like the hilt of a weapon or the butt of a blaster. I believe she may have knocked you unconscious. We do know she was the one who injured you." She paused again, closing her eyes. "We came into the room to see her screaming and sobbing… 'I killed him, I killed him…' and she wouldn't let us take her… she kept screaming for you."

Carth struggled for another breath. She sensed this and shushed him.

"When you are well," she told him. "Rest now."

He watched with horror as she stood to leave. "Juhani!"

She glanced back at him, a warm smile on her face. "Rest now, Carth, and when you wake we may speak."

And she was gone, leaving him alone in the dark.

------

Carth recovered within the day. His broken nose healed and the various bruises and hurts on his body were also tended to until they no longer ached when he moved. Cortessa, mortified by the amount of damage she had done, avoided him as much as possible when he was up and busy again. Whenever he strode into the room she was in, she would blush, stammer, and flee, before he could utter a single word. He was stunned by the power of her previous attack – he had only just begun to realize the gravity of everything she had said. Something was seriously wrong.

Somehow, for some unfathomable reason that he hated himself for, Carth could forgive her for what she did. If she would give him the chance, and that seemed less and less likely with each passing day. She didn't visit the cockpit at all in the week it took to get from Dantooine to Kashyyyk, and avoided the main hold whenever he was off-duty. She always waited until everyone had vanished breakfast before she ventured in to feed herself.

Carth didn't like this new Cortessa at all. It was unfamiliar and she was the most timid, heartbreaking thing he had ever seen. This was not the sassy, quick-witted woman he had joined up with, had trusted, had come to care for. And it was intolerable. But as long as he couldn't pin her down, he didn't have any choice but to let her continue being a meek little girl.

Kashyyyk appeared a small, glowing dot at first, but soon grew to become a huge, round, green orb. Bastila stared through the cockpit window, mouth agape, and Carth hurriedly grabbed the intercom. "We've reached Kashyyyk. Take landing positions – I'm going to put her down."

Hysterical roaring could be heard from the main hold. T3-M4 screamed with shock and immediately Mission's frantic jabber rang down the halls. Bastila whirled around in her chair, listening.

"What's he saying?" Carth asked sharply.

"He keeps shouting, 'I can't go, I can't go…'" she muttered, biting her lip.

Juhani sprinted into the main hold, slipping on her own feet. "Carth!" she cried. "Carth! Zaalbar, he's… he's gone wild! He can't be dissuaded! I think he might –"

Mission screamed and her pleading was raised several octaves into a shriek. Carth leapt up and raced into the main hold, where Zaalbar had drawn a blade and was holding it high, roaring loudly. Cortessa lay, sprawled, on the floor, unconscious.

Carth threw himself at the big Wookiee and began wrestling for the blade. Obviously, Zaalbar was stronger, and swung Carth around like a rag doll. Carth let go and went flying, crashing into a wall on the far end of the room. For the second time in a week, the wind was knocked from him and his vision flashed. He crumpled beside Cortessa who, for once, looked untroubled as she lay there unconscious. He didn't know whether to be angry with her or happy, but it didn't matter – Zaalbar had thrown the blade aside and was sprinting for the loading ramp.

"STOP HIM!" Juhani screeched, letting panic leak into her voice. "HE CANNOT ESCAPE LIKE THAT OR HE WILL KILL US ALL!"

Carth knew that the loading ramp was locked during flight, but the Wookiee was strong and could easily break the air seals. "Bastila!" he shouted from the floor. "Stasis!"

Bastila's eyes grew wide and she flung her arms out. Zaalbar froze; his muscles seized up and he collapsed in a trembling mass. Carth staggered to his feet, gasping for breath and staring at the enraged Wookiee with detached shock. Bastila sank to her knees, breathless, and Juhani closed her eyes for a moment to compose herself. Mission sobbed in the corner, her knees drawn to her chest, her face lost in her hands. A large bruise was swelling on one of her lekku.

Zaalbar snorted like a rabid animal, drooling slightly, his eyes rolling. He grunted protests, but Bastila held fast; her face was strained by the effort, so Juhani joined in to ease the weight. Carth knelt beside Zaalbar and gazed into his face.

"I wish I could understand what you're saying," he murmured thoughtfully.

Then Zaalbar did something that sent chills down Carth's spine. Taking several heavy, rasping, ragged breaths, he grunted out in awkward Basic, "Won't… go… home."

------

**Author's Notes: **I love this chapter. A lot. And I'm not just saying that. Please be thorough when telling me what you liked or didn't like about it. I love hearing constructive criticism. Yes, Wookiees can speak Basic, but it's very hard and most can't do it. Zaalbar, considering that he spent several years in the city, has probably picked up a word or two. So here we are. Yeah. We got a Carth ass-kicking, Cortessa personality-swap (_again_), Juhani the medic, and a crazy Zaalbar. This is going to get fun. Sickness is the god for good writing. I hope I never get well again. I TOLD YOU there would be a snap scene/Carth-bashing. Cortessa opens up a can of Jedi-fu, you dig? If it's disappointing to you, I'm sorry. **I** had fun.

Child-of-the-Dawn – Trust me, there'll be mush. And you'll get sick of it. XD

Lunatic Pandora1 – I've heard of Darth Carth. It makes me giggle because it rhymes.

SilverSentinal21 – I'm giving clues. That's what I love about this – you won't know they're clues until they turn up later. The baby thing was a major giveaway to the rest of the plot and you'll probably be able to guess it but you won't know until I get there. I'm sorry that I'm driving you crazy – I made this so that people could think without having to think.

FaintlyAlarming – Hm backwards is Mh.

DarthNexus9000 – There you go. I FRICKEN LOVE WRITING ZAALBAR. OH GOD.

Sorry. XD I just had to tell someone that and you just happened to be it.

Ilea Dreike – I always worry about Canderous so it's comforting to hear that I pull him off okay. Thank you. :)

Dark Lord Daishi – Here you go! Did I do good?

Dante-Raven - I always figured that Revan beat up Malak. Like a lot. Even though they were close and stuff. Because Sith are like that. You know?

Queenofinsanity – The babies are important. Don't forget them.

Amme Moto – Demonic is an awesome word. It just rolls off the tongue. DEMONIC. DEMONIC.

Queenofinsanity again – Thanks for checking up? XD


	30. Bury Me FaceDown

**Savior Self **

_Kashyyyk part one. If you're going to whine at me about how quickly Dantooine went by, don't worry. Kashyyyk, I think, is going to be quite a bit longer. I could be wrong, though. Can't see into the future n' alla dat. _

**Rated PG13 **

**Disclaimer: **I only own the elusive Llorrwii, who you won't even recognize until I point her out in Beyond the Horizon.

**Savior Self **

Carth, shaking and trembling, awkwardly activated the magnetic landing locks as they entered Kashyyyk's atmosphere. Zaalbar's grunting was unpleasantly loud; he had been bound and set in the corner of the cockpit while Juhani tended to Mission and Cortessa. Bastila watched him now. The Wookiee's eyes were wide and bloodshot, his nose was flushed, and foamy white spit welled up on the sides of his mouth, spraying everywhere when he roared with increasing alarm. Occasionally he would bellow a few Basic words, like "NO" and "WON'T," but mostly he just grunted and snorted like a diseased mynock, tossing his head nervously and rolling on the floor. Bastila tried to calm him through the Force, but, she told Carth, he, like most Wookiees, was Force-Sensitive and could shake off her attempts. If she tried to touch him he would shriek and flop like a fish, thrusting his teeth in all directions. Carth became anxious and wished he could speed up the docking process. Juhani occasionally sent reports through the intercom. Mission was flustered and her lek, thigh, and ribs were badly bruised after she had been thrown bodily by Zaalbar. Zaalbar heard this and moaned with grief. Cortessa, who had also been thrown, was merely unconscious. When Zaalbar heard this, he went into another fit of hysterics, and Bastila told Carth that he was mourning his inability to protect his pup and his lifedebt partner.

They docked. Carth let out a sigh of relief, slumping over the controls. Zaalbar suddenly went very still and quiet. A faint whimper rose from his throat, but that was the only indication he made of his previous tantrums. The fur along his neck stood on end and he bared his fangs.

Bastila sighed, rubbing her brow. "We're here," she murmured. "At long last."

Carth stood uneasily and headed for the main hold. Bastila dragged Zaalbar along behind her as she followed; Zaalbar remained resigned, though his eyes were wide and remorseful.

Cortessa had not recovered from being thrown. Juhani stood in the main hold with Mission on her arm, and Cortessa lay bundled in the corner with her head wrapped in white bandages. Sensing the question before it was asked, Juhani said, "She will be well by morning."

Carth nodded, swallowing the dry feeling in his throat. The look Bastila gave him was unbearable. With an uncustomary lack of maturity, he pulled a face and stuck out his tongue at her. Affronted, she blinked at him and determinedly turned her gaze away, setting her mouth into a grim line. Mission giggled wearily. One lek was a strange, bruised purple. Carth frowned.

"You alright, Mission?"

She gazed up at him and smiled. "Ah, sure," she said. "Zaalbar didn't mean to hurt me. My lek will go down in a day or so, Juhani told me. And my ribs might be a little sore, but they'll stitch right up, too. Don't worry about me. I've been through worse." She offered him a reassuring smile, and he nodded back. Zaalbar moaned softly again, tears matting down his fur.

Bastila, Juhani, and Carth firmly ignored his tears, but Mission's eyes grew wide and soft. "Zaalbar," she began, but Juhani pressed a hand on her shoulder in warning. Mission understood and recoiled. The Wookiee was not safe at the moment.

"I will make the proper docking requirements," Bastila said. "Cortessa cannot do it while she is unconscious."

"You don't know anything," Carth replied. "_I'll_ do it. You watch Zaalbar so he doesn't hurt anyone else."

Zaalbar howled pathetically.

Bastila stiffened, glowering murderously, but did as she was told. Carth strode out of the main hold and down the loading ramp. But with every step he took, he realized with cold certainty that they needed Cortessa back. And badly.

------

Cortessa recovered by morning, as Juhani had promised. She told them when asked that her head ached horribly, and she could not sit upright without dizzy spells. Zaalbar cried and whined and paced incessantly, hating himself for his lack of security. Cortessa told him she didn't blame him, and he had nearly knocked her against the wall again in admonishment. That had silenced her for the rest of the day, even while she explored the 'settlement' Czerka had put up.

"I don't like it here," she had said firmly, gazing up towards the tops of the enormous trees. The canopy was huge, and she could not see the sky, though she still tried. The only openings in the canopies were above the landing ports, and those had to be meticulously trimmed by staff every day, twice a day, just so the overgrowth wouldn't swallow the ships whole. For some reason, something about the forest surroundings turned Cortessa's skin darker, and she looked more exotic. She had become pale over the past week, but it seemed that the planet was feeding her life again, because a flush had settled on her cheeks in a comely way. Her eyes were becoming bright again, but she still did not put her hair back, which was a bad sign in Carth's eyes. She let her hair fall in her face, masking it. She was hiding. From what? Him?

It seemed very likely that she was avoiding him. Every time he spoke to her, she would blush uncontrollably and couldn't utter a word. If she needed help, she would turn to anyone else first before him. And Carth, though it embarrassed him to admit it, felt a little rejected for this.

Cortessa had lost the swing in her hips. She walked resolutely, with a determined stride, her shoulders thrown back and her arms stiff and unmoving at her sides. Carth had begun to miss her. Already, he missed what she used to be. He wished he could speak to her again, see her laugh again like she would. But her smiles were scarce and generally false when they did come, and they were not as radiant as they used to be. He tried every day now to talk to her about what had happened, but, of course, every time he got near she would find some great distraction. Bastila eyed him with contempt, Juhani would spare him pitying glances, and Mission shook her head at him. Canderous merely laughed. It was like the entire universe was against him.

Miserable, he trudged behind her one foggy Kashyyyk morning, feeling unusually cold. The trees spewed their own hateful mist, which smelled very faintly like meat and flowers. Carth's jacket did not feel thick enough; he hugged himself as he walked to isolate himself from the cold, and Canderous picked at him for being a wimp. Carth didn't care. Let the Mandalorian suffer frostbite – Carth preferred to be able to feel his fingers. He let out a soft growl of annoyance when a few snowflakes found their way through the thick canopy.

"Why'd we have to land on a planet during its winter season?" he whined.

Cortessa glanced back at him and he saw the flush turning her cheeks bright red. He groaned inside. She wasn't going to answer him. Hell, she wasn't even going to laugh with him. He gazed at her with wide, soft, pleading eyes, and… did he see her brushing away a tear?

Canderous saw it, too. Immediately he swooped down upon her, wrapping a heavily-sculpted arm around her shoulders. Carth felt a furious stab of jealousy that momentarily blinded him, and when he recovered he found his hand hovering above his blaster holster. Shocked, he hurriedly stuffed his hands in his pockets, forgetting all about the cold. Still, he could not turn his eyes away, and found new rage as Canderous so boldly allowed his arm to slid down and encircle her waist. Juhani, who had been striding alongside Carth, shot him a warning look.

Carth was calculating how easy it would be to hit him right at the base of the skull. It would only take one shot, but Canderous would need to stop walking… but what did it matter if Carth hit a little high? Take off the whole damn head as long as he kept his greasy paws off of her. Canderous breathed something in Cortessa's ear; she moaned softly.

Carth had had enough. He stopped walking and said, in a soft, carefully-controlled voice, "Stop. Now."

Canderous obediently halted, but Cortessa kept walking, seeming to stand a little straighter. While he may have been imagining it, Carth thought he could see her shoulders shaking. But he didn't care. He stared into Canderous's icy eyes, resisting the urge to fight him right there. Unfortunately, he was still a little sore from Cortessa's beating – he didn't need Canderous's heavy weight breaking him all over again.

"Something wrong, Republic?" Canderous growled, and Carth could hear in his tone that he knew _exactly_ what was the matter.

"What the hell is your problem?" Carth hissed back.

"She ain't territory, Republic," Canderous replied, in a very low voice, until Carth was forced to take a step forward to hear. Juhani growled softly in the back of her throat, the brindled fur on her neck standing on end. Her amber eyes grew very wide.

"No, she sure as hell _isn't_," Carth replied, matching Canderous's quietness.

Bastila cried out and began chasing after Cortessa, calling out to her to come back.

Canderous gave Carth a little push. "What are you going to do about it?"

Carth shoved back before he could stop himself. He didn't know what had possessed him, or why he even cared, but somehow he just couldn't bear the thought of this… this… _Mandalorian _having his way with her. It was inconceivable.

"Maybe if you'd just talk to her once and a while," Canderous snarled under his breath. "Maybe if you'd stop dinking around and stop seeing everything from your ass!"

Carth started for him, but suddenly a very hairy paw had gripped his arm and heaved him back. Carth stumbled, tripped over his own feet, and fell. Through the dizzying confusion, he saw Canderous getting treated in rather the same way by a clearly agitated Zaalbar. Juhani had started up a faint, anxious yowl low in her throat, smoothing back her ears with a frantic urgency.

Cortessa was suddenly over him, hauling him to his feet. Canderous was batting Bastila away as she did the same thing. Carth could hear him swearing profusely, snorting something about a 'real man being able to pick himself up.' Carth didn't mind so much, but the moment he had his balance Cortessa's hand came out of nowhere and slapped him smartly across the face.

Surprised, he staggered back again, but the railing on the walkway caught him. He gripped it with both hands, his heart leaping to his throat at the idea that he could be knocked backwards to his death. But she didn't come after him again, only gazed at him with swimming eyes before she went to help Zaalbar, who was sobbing in a fetal position on the ground. _How sad_, Carth found himself thinking absurdly as he watched the Wookiee cry, _that this fully-grown man has dissolved to become as simple as an infant._ This thought was interrupted by a much harsher idea. _Kind of like me._ He ducked his head in shame.

Juhani, who had previously been spitting and hissing with alarm, had now toned down to smoothing back her ears again, shifting fretfully. The woman was a nervous wreck waiting to happen, Carth decided. They were all nervous wrecks. He looked to Bastila, who held a now hysterical Mission.

Cortessa faced them all, obviously failed in her attempts to get Zaalbar to stand. Her eyes were blazing with an old fury, and, somehow, Carth was overwhelmingly relieved that she was back to normal, even if she was angry. She pressed her hands to her hips, gazing at them each in turn. Her eyes lingered on Canderous and Carth, and, while Canderous met her gaze firmly, Carth bowed his head. "What's the point?" she snapped, her voice ringing terribly clear. "Why are we here? What cause do we serve?"

Bastila opened her mouth, but a swift look from Juhani promptly closed it.

Cortessa spoke again. "If we are only to break apart our bonds, why not leave?"

Zaalbar let out a high-pitched noise of terror, drowning out several of her words.

"That's your goal, is it? To make life hell for everyone?" she demanded. She glanced at Carth accusingly, and in response he flushed and bit his lip. "If that's all you want, then go. We don't need trouble. We don't need life to be more of a pit than it is. This mission is hard enough and if you only intend on dragging it on, be done with it. Stop now, or leave."

Silence stretched on for a long, long time. Nothing but the faint pitter-patter of rain could be heard. Juhani backed her ears resentfully at the wetness and Mission turned her face up to it. Cortessa, Bastila, and Canderous remained utterly still, like statues. Cortessa was the monument of anger and wrath, with her shoulders hunched and legs spread. Bastila was the monument of peace and cold serenity, her face expressionless, her hands clasped neatly behind her back. Canderous was the monument to defiance, with his mouth twisted up in some satanic smirk and his arms folded over his chest.

He spoke then, startling everyone out of their silence. "You were a great leader," he said. "You had strength where most did not. I admired you."

The look she gave him would have silenced any sensible man, but Canderous was not sensible.

He continued, raising his voice a little as the storm picked up, his hair flattened against his head. Juhani moaned miserably, shrinking into her robes a little. Mission's lekku shined wet. Bastila folded her arms over her chest so that her soaked robes would not reveal more than they should. Canderous spoke with rising disgust. "But you are no longer strong. You let stupid things, things that should have brought you honor, break you. You let yourself be broken. You are no leader! You are pathetic! Unsuitable! I tried to help you, I tried to do my best in hopes that perhaps this was just temporary delirium." He spat. She let out a hissing noise of disgust, her eyes growing wide. Carth saw her fingers flex. But Canderous, the poor, brave fool, finished with false bravado and growled, "You can consider my service discontinued." He shifted his pack over his shoulder. "Have fun, kid. Keep Mr. Republic safe and make sure Princess doesn't get lost in any black holes. It's been nice." He tried to stride past her, but she moved to block his way.

Carth braced himself, imagining her taking one of the vibroblades along her thighs and delivering a clean stab right under the ribcage to Canderous's heart, but instead, she thrust a hand out and shook his huge paw with a firm finality.

"You served us well," she rasped at him.

He nodded, giving her hand a final jerk before he released her. If he had been afraid, he didn't show it as he walked confidently away, fading into the stormy fog.

Juhani let out a loud hiss, her ears suddenly flying forward as she bared her teeth into a horrid, humorless, frightened grin. "You are going to let him go, just like that?" she cried.

Cortessa said nothing. Her expression was a blank one. After several minutes she turned her eyes away and muttered, "Let's get back to business, then."

And that was the end of it.

------

**Author's Notes: **Uh-oh. We're in trouble. Is Canderous, _gasp_, gone? Oh no! Just you wait – things are going to go real far here. I'm happy with this chapter. I like Juhani a lot, for some reason. I like her cat-like gestures. I can't believe they get into so much trouble their first week on Kashyyyk. Let's hope this doesn't turn into a pattern… Yeah, right. XD And yes, Canderous was hitting on her, but only to annoy Carth, because he's that kind of guy. He'd never actually act on his words. Except this time. Lickety-split.

I didn't include a lot of side-quests, but trust me, I will. I just felt like, 'you know what, side-quests are boring and don't make this much better. But you know what does? SEX!' THAT'S RIGHT! SEX! (so expect some SEX in the future).

No just kidding. Haha. XD

**Dante-Raven** – The whole thing is so fun to write. I'm glad the fun manages to get through to you also. I also appreciate the in-depth review you gave me. Thank you.

**lacthryn18** – The characters just come to me like they do. They always develop beyond the game in fanfiction, and they feel very 3-D to me.

**godessofwisdom** – Corty always needs Midol.

**Lunatic Pandora1** – Yes, Carth, sir, hell yes!

**Queenofinsanity** – I have a fever. Yay! Yeah, Corty literally kicked the crap out of Carth. Poor Carth. But… he had it comin'.

**Dark Lord Daishi** – Canderous's 'you got your ass kicked' thing just came to me as I was writing that scene, and I ran with it. I love it, too.

**Ilea Dreike** – Corty pwnz everyone. She is a pwn-master. And Canderous is my machine for humor. I'm not sure what I'm going to do now that he's gone.

**SilverSentinal21** – I LOVE Jolee! That's why I picked Kashyyyk before Tatooine. HK-47 is awesome, but he can't wield a lightsaber, now, can he?

**FaintlyAlarming** – Zaalbar was always unstable in my eye, and being forced to betray his honor like that drove him into a fit. He didn't mean to hit Cortessa, but he was wild and stuff happens.

**Child-of-the-Dawn** – Qui/Obi makes me hungry. Thanks a lot. --

**Amme Moto** – I hope you feel better, if you want to. I'm glad I could make you feel better.

**DarthNexus9000** – It WILL be very long. I would make the chapters longer than 5 pages, but I hate really long chapters, and they're not only difficult to read but to write as well.


	31. Carth, You Damn Idiot

**Savior Self **

_Kashyyyk part two. _

**Rated PG13 **

**Disclaimer: **I mentioned Llorrwii. I changed the plot a little here and there, but it doesn't distract too much from the actual game.

**Savior Self **

Canderous did not return, though Carth had half-expected him to. He actually stayed up a little that night, waiting for the bulky Mandalorian to saunter in as if none of the day had happened. But he didn't. He didn't bother to get his stuff, not that he had much stuff, anyway. His favorite things, his clothing, his repeater, he had brought with him when they had left the ship. All that was left was his messy, unmade bunk, which no one touched.

Carth wasn't sure what to make of it. He didn't really want to believe he _missed _the Mandalorian bastard but… the guy had grown on him, in his own obnoxious, loathsome way.

Cortessa was again eerily silent. After her snapping comeback earlier, however, Carth felt she was beginning to recover, and he was glad. So many traumas had arisen over the past couple of months… he hoped they would all emerge in one piece. However, he felt, the only way to get through it was to swallow it as it came and digest it later. It had worked during the Mandalorian Wars, during the Telos bombing. It would work now.

Carth sighed, losing his face in his hands. He felt weak, broken down from what he had been before. He realized, with a cold hollowness, that Cortessa had softened him when he had trusted her, and now he was paying the price. But he hadn't felt like that in a long time. He had never felt so exposed and frail before. Not since… _No, no, NO,_ he scolded himself mentally, determinedly shaking the memory from his mind. He wouldn't. He _wouldn't_. No matter how much he wanted to, he simply refused to do it. The memory of Morgana was sacred, and he would not soil it with ideas of her. Think what he may, he would not, could not connect them. It would go against everything he'd fought for, strove for, since the Telos bombing.

In that way, Cortessa was what Carth feared and admired. A flame he wanted to touch.

Later that night, Juhani, as always, made the crew some edible dinner. She seemed to be very talented at many things, things of beauty and art, which could not be noticed at first glance. She had weaved her Jedi robes herself – Carth, if he looked, could see the careful embroidery, the delicate threads of gold at the collar, complimenting her fur. She braided her hair every morning alone, saying nothing to those who tried to talk to her until she was finished. She meticulously slicked it through three gold rings before braiding it, beading it, tying it, and securing it with gold bindings. Everything with Juhani had to be perfect and clean, even her hair, and her fur, which she groomed constantly when she thought no one was watching. He had seen her carefully lick her fingers and smooth back her ears. She had a certain feline gracefulness that he liked. She was a good person, a pretty person. Gorgeous, perhaps, to one of her own kind, but Carth felt nothing towards other species. He had seen children that had crossed between two lovers of different species and Carth felt he could never curse his children with such horrific looks. The sight of a half Quarren, half Sullustan child had assured him of _that_.

Carth was suddenly appalled at himself. Was he getting desperate in his age? To be looking at poor _Juhani _now in such a way? He shook himself mentally, and hard.

He wanted desperately for things to be back to normal. He wanted desperately for the war, for one clear path instead of hundreds of confusing ones. A keening moan of grief rose in his throat, but he had no time to mourn. The moment he had lost his face in his hands, a faint knock issued from the barrack door.

He looked up, swallowing a knot in his throat. Cortessa gazed in at him, eyes wide and blue. He was suddenly disgusted with those eyes, those beautiful eyes on her perfect face. He was suddenly disgusted with her comely body, her grace and power. He was suddenly disgusted with the knotted feeling that came to him every time he saw her, every time she spoke to him. He was suddenly disgusted with everyone, including himself.

And it was this overwhelming disgust that made him perfectly calm. He gazed up at her through blank eyes that did not see the Cortessa he loved – _hah! Love! _– but instead he just saw a person, a person that did not matter, as plain as a rock on the ground. "Yes?" he asked tonelessly.

She wavered, clearly sensing his detachment. She bit her lip and shook her head. "Never mind," she murmured. She left, and it was several minutes until Carth realized that he had been staring at the place where her shadow had vanished. Shaking his head, he slumped back in his bunk and closed his eyes, praying that some sleep might come to him that night.

It did, but it fought viciously with him, and when he woke he was still as tired as he had been upon sleeping. The sheets were tangled and thrust onto the floor, and, try as he might, he could not unearth his pillow, wherever it might have gone. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he pushed himself to his feet and halfheartedly dawned his clothing. Another day of exploring, searching a _whole goddamn planet_ for a simple artifact that might not even exist, or, if it did exist, it might not exist _here_. Why would a high-tech space chart be located on such a primitive planet? Certainly Czerka hadn't found it, and they found everything and drank it until it was dry.

Maybe this was all a wild chase. Maybe Carth was going to die for something utterly pointless, never knowing what had happened to his son, never seeing Telos thrive again.

Suddenly he gagged, feeling nauseas. He staggered, taking deep breaths in earnest, but it didn't help. After a few empty heaves, he managed to vomit all over himself and all over the floor. Moaning miserably, he leaned against the wall, feeling his cold sweat chill his neck, and he closed his eyes. What had he done? What the _hell_ had he done?

------

It was kindhearted Juhani who discovered him and his mess. Without a word, she made him comfortable on his bunk and cleaned up after him, ignoring and rejecting his attempts to apologize. She worked without any outward signs of distaste, much to his amazement, and in no time the floor was spotless. Carth sat there awkwardly, embarrassed and feeling as if he had just forced an unpleasant chore on her – which he, technically, had, but she had taken up the work herself.

"Juhani," he began for the umpteenth time, but she held up a hand to silence him.

"No, Carth, it is not your fault," she said gently. She gazed at him through warm, compassionate yellow eyes, and he sighed.

"Still, you shouldn't be the one caring for me," he mumbled. He glanced up at her skeptically. "Whatever compelled you to come in here and clean up my puke."

"It is better than the silence of the main hold," she replied sharply, backing her ears with an audible jangle of the cartouche clipped in one lobe. It was a curious cartouche that often aroused interest in Carth. He was sure it signified something: a normal ring with a tiny glass globe attached, and in the globe were several small objects that Carth could not see for they often rattled too quickly.

He looked up at her now, glowering. "Canderous," he said in a dark, heavy voice. "Canderous ruined everything."

"Do not blame Canderous," Juhani told him, frowning. Her ears were working furiously now, flicking forward and back and swiveling in all directions, rattling her cartouche loudly.

"But it _is _his fault!" Carth cried. "You agree with me, don't you?"

She stared at him for a moment, then scowled, her ears snapping back a final time and laying, smooth and flat against her skull. "Yes," she growled. "I do." She glanced over her shoulder, flexing her claws unconsciously.

Carth sighed with relief, sinking back in his bunk. "Thank the gods, I'm not alone," he breathed. Now he had someone he could confide in, who would believe him.

Juhani's eyes grew wide, turning into perfect golden globes. "But enough of this talk," she told him quietly. She turned and vanished, and Carth worried that she might not come back, but then she returned with a wet cloth. With the cloth, she began tending to him. "You are unwell," she muttered, almost to herself, smoothing back his hair and wiping his brow. He closed his eyes, accepting the coolness and the comfort. Her voice was a gentle, rolling sound, soothing him, and he barely heard her as she spoke. "You have a fever and you are a little shaky." She glanced at him, and he suddenly snapped back to attention, seeing the hard look on her face. "You may not leave with us to the Great Walkway today."

Carth moaned. "No," he said. "I have to come with. I have to protect Cortessa –"

"No," she said harshly, tensing. "You do not."

He stared at her a moment. "Juhani…"

"Carth, _no_."

But Carth wouldn't listen to her warnings. "What are we going to do about her? She's just not been herself lately. I don't know why, but I just can't hate her for what she did to me. And I want to. I really want to. I want to hate her. But I can't. I want to know what's wrong with her. I think she might be in more trouble than she lets on."

Juhani snarled and spat, withdrawing. Her eyes grew round again and the fur on her neck stood on end. Her claws shot out and her eyes snapped back. Going utterly still, she let a low, yowling moan rumble in her throat. She stood there, wavering like a snake poking its neck out of the tall grass, almost in a stalking way.

Carth sat forward, knowing he was risking another ass-kicking for pushing her and not caring. "There has to be something. You know something is wrong, Juhani. Don't deny it. We've all seen it, the way she –"

"ENOUGH!" Juhani roared, trembling. Carth saw that her tiny nub of a tail was erect in her fury, and that her claws had poked through her slippers. He recoiled immediately.

She stomped around in circles, at first so angry that her claws clicked on the floor and the guttural growl in her throat made her fur ripple, but she began to slowly calm down. The growl became a moan, which then turned into a whine. Her claws retracted and her eyes narrowed again to remorseful slits. She began smoothing back her ears, but the fur on her neck remained on-end.

When the whining stopped, Carth found the courage to speak again. "What has made you so afraid, Juhani?"

She whirled around to face him, her ears snapping forward, and her eyes, for the third time, growing very wide. "You will remain on this ship with the Wookiee and Mission," she hissed, "until you feel better." And with that, she turned on her heel and marched out.

Carth, sighing, leaned back against the wall, and said nothing more.

------

An hour or so later, Cortessa and the others, as promised, left the ship in a pack, all armed to the teeth. Zaalbar had been stuffed, still bound tightly at the arms and ankles, in the bunkroom with Carth, who eyed him reproachfully. Zaalbar ignored the displeased stare from his companion, and took to writhing and mumbling incoherently on the floor. Small patches of fur had fallen out and his eyes were dull but wide with horror. He knew this place. Something was terribly wrong here.

Mission sat beside Carth and played pazaak with him for a while. They carried on wordlessly for several minutes, until Zaalbar's moaning became unbearable.

"So," Mission said determinedly, looking Carth in the eye. "Juhani told me you were sick."

Carth smiled. "That I am," he said, though he doubted that was the real problem with him. Whatever was wrong, it was Canderous's fault, and Cortessa's fault.

Mission resolutely raised her voice over the faint keening noise Zaalbar made. "So what do you think of Kashyyyk?"

"That was a stupid question, Mission," Carth said calmly, flipping a card. "I call stand at nineteen."

She glanced up at him. "Sorry," she mumbled, pulling the wrong card and busting. She swore, scowling. "Uh… I got no negatives. You win this round. But don't count on it again."

"I won't," he replied, grinning. They started another round.

"So," Mission said, trying again. "What do you think is up with Corty?"

Carth paused, trying to collect himself. Coolly, he laid down another card. "What about her?" he asked with a false casualness.

"Don't be dumb, now, Carth," she said, fixing him with a hard look. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"I'm afraid I don't."

"Like hell." She snorted, shaking her head and pulling another card. "Something's really got her shaken. And Bastila doesn't help any, you know? Juhani tries, but she's just not strong enough. I think they've all seen too much." She glanced up and then, seeing her words weren't affecting him, said in a throwaway manner, "Must suck to be a Jedi, huh?"

A wry laugh escaped him. "Yeah, Jedi," he grumbled. "Lying, cheating pack of bastards, the lot of them…"

"What has she done to you?" Mission asked, leaning forward.

He met her gaze solidly. "That's none of your business."

"What do you have against Corty, anyway?"

He pressed his palm firmly on the bed. "It doesn't matter."

"I know she beat you up," she muttered. "I know she called you names and probably could have killed you. But whatever happened… I think it's changed both of you, you know? I think you need to stop."

"Tell her that, and I'll consider it," he hissed.

Mission's eyes suddenly grew wide and fixed on his own. "You love her."

Carth groaned, rolling his eyes. "What _is_ it with everyone going on about things like that? No, I don't, okay? She is our leader. I serve her, nothing more. She is a companion, perhaps a friend, and for that reason alone I remain beside her. But I can't love her."

She shook her head. "That's not what Canderous told me."

"Screw Canderous!" Carth shouted, slamming his fist on his knee. "Canderous started this whole gods-damn mess!"

"You got jealous, that's all," Mission said, folding her arms.

"I don't get jealous," he snorted, but felt a faint pang in his stomach as he did so.

"Apparently, you did."

"Listen, you don't understand."

"You said you can't love her," she said suddenly. "Do you mean that you want to?"

"What? No!"

"Maybe you aren't the reason she's so crazy, you know?" Mission said thoughtfully. She was only bouncing ideas off of him – she couldn't care less the turmoil she was causing him. "Maybe it has something to do with Bastila, or the Jedi Order. Or maybe… do you think she could be pregnant?"

Carth abruptly dropped his pazaak card. He felt as if he had been forced to swallow an ice cube the size of a bantha whole; his insides were frozen; his throat felt knotted.

Mission grinned impishly, calmly bending over to pick up his card. She set it on the bed for him. "Aw, Carth, was it you?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, battling back his panic. _It's just a silly, unfounded theory, Carth_, he told himself. _You're overreacting. Why do you even care anyway? You don't love her – you said so yourself. _

_Well, yeah. But that doesn't mean I'm telling the truth. _

_No, no. Don't think like that, you idiot… _

"No," he managed to mumble. "I… haven't touched her."

Mission understood. She gasped. "Oh, poodoo… sorry, Carth! I… oh, _poodoo_. I forgot." She fidgeted unhappily. "I totally forgot."

"Yeah, fine," he said with such raw fury that she fell silent for a moment.

When she found her bravery again, she asked weakly, "D-Do… Do you think Canderous…?"

"_No_," he said sharply. Perhaps too sharply.

"I just totally screwed myself, didn't I?" Mission squeaked.

"Yes."

She said nothing else, and instead hugged herself and struggled not to cry.

Suddenly Zaalbar began screaming. Not roaring, like he usually did when distressed, but _screaming_. A long, high-pitched sound, earnest and chilling. He began fighting his bonds again with such a vigor that one of the straps on his foot snapped loose, so then he kicked air with his clawed paw, as if warding off attackers. His eyes were wild and darting madly back and forth; spit, turned red from where he had bitten his tongue, welled up on the sides of his mouth and sprayed when he shrieked. He arched his back, bucking, thrusting his head back and banging it on the floor with force enough to knock a normal human unconscious. The bonds on his legs, pulled too tight in his struggle, cut into his shins and ankles and made him scream louder. Bloody, his foot hit the wall, and he began kicking it so angrily that his claws crunched and the metal panels buckled; his eyes rolled and he screamed again. Carth and Mission jumped up to try and subdue him, but he bit at their hands so furiously that they recoiled.

They could not focus on him for long. There was a screech of metal being torn from metal, and the loading ramp fell open with an almighty crash. Carth jumped and whirled around, drawing his blasters; Mission mirrored him. He listened and heard the faint noises of an unwanted party boarding his ship. "You go left," he said to Mission, now ignoring Zaalbar altogether. "I go right."

"Got you," Mission said, and ducked into the hallway with perfect stealth and grace.

Carth didn't have time to move into position. In unison, five Wookiees barred his path. One of them pressed a blade to his chest, forcing him to back up into the middle of the room. Carth put up a bold front, though, inside, the sight of these enormous creatures staring him down with such wrath made him dizzy with nausea. Mission began shrieking; apparently she had run into them, too. The Wookiee in the lead, a golden-furred male with streaks of grey in his mane, thrust Carth aside and continued on to Zaalbar, who had begun thrashing so wildly it was amazing he didn't break in two. He kept screaming and screaming and screaming, writhing and bucking. He bit blindly at the hands that reached for him, drawing blood, screeching like something gone mad. He _was_ something gone mad. The other Wookiees gathered around tight, gripping any part of him they could tightly. The screams rose an octave with pain and panic.

"Let him go!" Carth tried to shout, but his voice was instantly drowned out. So he just fired his blaster, nailing a nearby Wookiee in the arm.

The Wookiee drew a deep breath and roared with pain and fury. He whirled around, and all Carth saw was black… all Carth felt was that paw against his temple… and all Carth heard was Zaalbar screaming… screaming… screaming…

------

**Author's Notes: **I know it's a short chapter, but I really like it. I like how Zaalbar's going insane and how Carth is like, 'loveNOWAITNEVERMINDJESUSCHRISTWHATTHEHELL' and stuff like that. And Cortessa's going to stop being super annoying really soon. I promise.

And I'm really sorry about how long it's taking me to get these chapters up. I just started a fictionpress account, for one, the school year's almost over, for two (good for you, because when the school year's over, more free time for the story), my friend just moved away, for three, and I do still have other fanfictions/novels that I'm working on, for four. So yeah. But I still love this and I'm not abandoning it any time soon.

Child-of-the-Dawn – Ahaha. XD I'll try and get a joke in there somewhere. Probably directed by Jolee – he seems to be the type for it.

Lunatic Pandora1 – That's a cute idea. :D

Dark Lord Daishi – I like to mediate between light and dark for Cortessa. Earlier in the story she was practically an angel, and now she's like 'rawr damn you rawr' and so I'm trying to decide whether or not to switch her again. But it won't matter – all that really matters is what side she's on when she faces Bastila, right? ;o

Dante-Raven – Canderous still has a few adventures up his sleeve.

SilverSentinal21 – I want to drive you crazy. That's the point. XD

Amme Moto – Canderous's bastard-y-ness isn't about to run short any time soon, either. So yay, Candy!

JadeFalcon3 – I'm glad you noticed the title. It came to me one time when I was really bored and so I was like, "Hey, why not!" And I was sort of surprised people didn't comment/notice. So thank you for that.

Facing My Failure – I get a little jealous of my own character sometimes. Getting hit on my Canderous? NO WAI!

Queenofinsanity – OMFG I LOVE CHICAGO. AHAHAHA.

Ilea Dreike – I'M SORRY I REALLY AM:(


	32. Corty's Throat Dies Again

**Savior Self **

_Kashyyyk part three. _

**Rated PG13 **

**Disclaimer: **Get this. I put PG131. Maaaaan.

**Savior Self **

Cortessa wished vaguely as she walked along that she had not left the others behind. Just fighting the beasts along the Great Walkway was tough for the rest of them; two extra blasters and even an insane Wookiee would be a welcomed help. Dozens of kinraths burst from their dens in the tree bark, or swung their way over on vines from nearby trees at the smell of fresh meat. Cortessa, subdued greatly since her bloodthirsty attack on Carth, hacked and slashed without much conviction, eyes blank and face expressionless. Her moves were not graceful nor did they hit their targets where they should have, and her targets ended up only stumbling when she whacked them with the flats of her blades. Bastila and Juhani, both colorful, humming blurs with their lightsabers, were beginning to sweat and pant. Juhani's ears were plastered to her skull; Bastila leaned against the railing whenever she could catch a break. And other than these three women, they were alone. There was no Carth; there was no Canderous. There was no Mission; there was no Zaalbar. Cortessa thought with a disheartening pang in her gut that she missed all of them.

_What have you done? _

They started forward again, stumbling over carcasses, only to be overwhelmed by even more beasts. Cortessa saw the nearest one and struck downwards; her blade cut its head in two. Poison burst forth from its opened stinger, spraying her fingers and burning like acid.

Cortessa screamed, staggering backwards and clutching her wrist, her face twisted with horror. Before her very eyes her skin was melting, turning red and green with blood and poison and pus… She shrieked in agony, finally losing her balance and falling to the ground. The stench of decay suffocated her – was it her skin or the dead bodies around her, or both? She retched, choking on vomit, tears, the stench, and her screams. The choking rendered her helpless, so she lay there convulsing and writhing in pain. She could feel the hot poison throbbing beneath her skin, feeding into her bloodstream and melting away everything it found. A kinrath rushed forward and pinned her, fixing it teeth around her neck before tearing. Hot blood burst forth, over her collar, over her face, over the ground around her. Cortessa bucked it off, now gargling pathetically, but Juhani and Bastila could not tend to her while fighting off waves of kinraths. Blood bubbled on her lips, pouring down her cheeks and chin. She saw the world throb red, then a dull grey.

Her head felt heavy. She wanted to lay it against the ground and have it sink into oblivion. But the wooden walkway was hard, so just lay there and waited for the pain to go away. Her hands felt like they were on fire, but she could not find the will to douse them. Her body felt much too large to move; she knew that wasn't right but somehow it was. The battle, the world around her looked foggy, pale… insignificant. It didn't matter anymore. The blood, the anguish, the people didn't matter anymore. She was completely composed, relaxed, for the first time since Carth. Except for the pain in her hands. Maybe she could do without that.

Her chest wasn't moving, was it? She stared at her body blankly, drunkenly. No. She felt like she should be breathing, but she wasn't. She didn't feel dizzy or lightheaded… she must be breathing. But she couldn't recall the last time she had inhaled, and she couldn't exhale; it never occurred to her to breathe in again. She just smiled, waiting for breath to come again, but it didn't, and she didn't care. It didn't hurt.

She lay back on the walkway and waited. Sure enough, darkness came to overwhelm her, and there was no more pain. There was no more chaos. There was no more Carth, no more kinraths, no more blood, no more poison. Only that gentle, soothing apathy, which she embraced until it pulled her down into darkness forever, for in apathy lies death.

------

**The End **

------

**Author's Notes: **This is what happens when I'm really bored. c",) I pull pranks. Go ahead and shoot me for this one.

------

Cortessa woke slowly, immediately aware of the horrible, raw burning of her hands, which would not flex or move. Next, she felt the terrible pains in the rest of her body: her head, which felt swollen and heavy, and throbbed with every heartbeat, her arms, sore from swinging and cutting through kinraths with the flat of her blade rather than the razor edge, her stomach, where a kinrath had stood on her and tried to rip open her tender skin, and, of course, her neck, which was thickly bandaged, held in a brace, and also throbbed painfully with every breath and heartbeat. She lay there utterly still, eyes closed, and moaned softly. The sound came out raspy and faint, scratching ruthlessly at her throat, and she stopped with a halfhearted sob. Wet, hot tears stung at her eyes.

_I am sorry, Master. I am sorry for my failure. _

Apparently Bastila had sensed her awakening, for she and Juhani both came crashing into the room with a surprising urgency. The room itself was small, Cortessa noted, built entirely out of wood and wicker, except for the bed, which had been spun by some soft wool. The ceiling was very high, which, Cortessa thought, made up for the stench of decay.

The stench of decay. It smelled far too familiar. She retched and grimaced as her throat tightened in protest.

Juhani knelt at her side, pressing both hands on her shoulder with a motherly care, and gazing into her face. "Cortessa? Are you awake?"

Bastila knelt down beside Juhani, peering carefully into Cortessa's eyes. Cortessa opened her mouth, but could not speak. She swooned trying so instead she sent a message through the bond she and Bastila shared. She had neglected this bond since discovering it, but now, it seemed, she _needed_ to use it.

So Bastila answered her questions aloud, so that Juhani may add input.

"You were incapacitated during the fighting," Bastila said. "You were poisoned by a more deadly kinrath. Normally, you would have just gotten an irritation and maybe some fever, but this kinrath was in season, and when kinraths are protecting or carrying young their poison is at least three times as toxic."

Juhani broke in. "Your hands will never again be the same," she said. "They will appear frail and you may not lift heavy objects… by heavy, I mean perhaps ninety pounds. At times your skin will ache or itch, but do not scratch it because it is also very thin and will tear."

"You are lucky you may use your hands at all," Bastila told Cortessa firmly.

Cortessa narrowed her eyes.

Bastila paused, considering her, before she continued. "After you were knocked out, you were attacked multiple times by kinraths. We tried our best to keep them off of you, but in the end we had to drag you back to the Ebon Hawk."

"Ah!" Juhani said.

"The ship was in terrible condition. The loading ramp had been torn from its place, the belongings inside were scattered about, as if there had been a struggle. Zaalbar, Carth, and Mission were gone." And, sensing Cortessa's incoming question, Bastila shook her head. "No, Canderous was not there. And no, Zaalbar had not done the damage. We found Wookiee blood in various places on the ship, but there was no sign of Zaalbar. We could feel impressions in the Force – his tribe had come to take him, and had taken Carth and Mission as well."

Cortessa's eyes flashed. Her friends were in trouble? Once she was able to use her hands again, she would use them to break the necks of every single tribe member.

"Do not be angered in haste, Cortessa," Juhani said quickly. "Your companions are unharmed."

"There was _blood_, moron," Cortessa rasped, even though it pained her.

Juhani pursed her lips. "From what I have heard, Zaalbar did that to himself."

"Like hell."

"Do not speak, you will hurt yourself," Bastila scolded.

Cortessa, now feeling very defiant, snarled, "Already… hurting…"

"Exactly. Silence."

"What… happened… where…?"

"We're getting there," Bastila replied stoutly. "Listen. After we discovered what had happened, we realized that you were still injured, and there were not enough supplies to care for you on our ship. So we brought you back through the Great Walkway."

"It was not easy," sighed Juhani sadly. "There were kinraths everywhere seeking a carcass to feed on. And they found us. We fought our way all the way to the gates of the Wookiee village."

"We begged for help. The Wookiee guards at first did not want us, even as we pleaded, told them what we were, what we stood for, what was wrong. And then we mentioned Carth… I can't remember how…" Bastila said vaguely, waving a hand.

"You lie!" Juhani gasped, staring at Bastila, who instantly blushed.

"What?" Cortessa croaked.

"We mentioned Carth as we spoke about you," Juhani said. "Bastila lied… she… she said that you and he were life-mates, put in terms for the Wookiees to understand. We said that Mission was your child, adopted because of… problems."

Cortessa groaned. _You've got to be kidding me._

"The Wookiees could not leave a mother to die at the hands of kinraths, but still they needed persuading. We mentioned that we had a Wookiee companion named Zaalbar, and that was all they needed to hear. They took us in and put you in this village infirmary. The natural medicines and Force-related healings here are astounding…" Juhani broke off into a murmur. "The Wookiees are amazing people… you may be well in the next few days."

Cortessa's voice was failing again. She only managed to squeak out, "Speak?" before the pain was too great.

Bastila smiled and nodded. "That, too."

Cortessa asked her why she had lied about Carth. Bastila blushed and waved a hand, mumbling something about how certain details were unnecessary.

Cortessa asked her where Carth, Mission, and Zaalbar were. Bastila sighed, shaking her head.

"They are imprisoned in the Chieftain's quarters," Juhani mumbled. "Zaalbar had been locked in his own cage, shackled, and… judging by his behavior and the markings… he has been tortured. Mission and Carth are also locked in a cage, though they are together and not shackled. When we entered, Carth was holding her as a man will hold his child… and she was crying."

Cortessa's voice suddenly came back. "We have to help them!"

"Silence!" Juhani hissed, her ears snapping forward and the hair on her neck standing on end.

Bastila stepped in. "We will free our friends, do not worry. But we cannot now. The Chieftain says… he says that to get our friends back, we must perform several tasks for him…"

Cortessa ground her teeth before she rasped, "If… refuse…?"

Bastila sighed, lowering her lashes. "He will kill them."

And nothing else was said.

------

In three week's time Cortessa was back on her feet, and, though she could talk for long periods now, her voice was still very soft and raspy, and it pained her to speak too loudly. She limped when she walked, and still wore a bandage tight around her middle. But she refused to let physical pain get the better of her; she swore to herself that she would help her friends whenever she could.

So, with Juhani and Bastila at either elbow, she hobbled to the Chieftain's quarters, her eyes determinedly fixed on the road ahead. Some of her old fire had returned to those icy eyes, a determination she had lost after her fight with Carth, and as she approached the door to the Chieftain's quarters, the guard did not hesitate to step aside. The guard himself was a gruff-looking Wookiee, with shoulders enormous even for his kind, grey with thin patches of hair, and his facial fur was beaded and braided. On his breast was burned the traditional mark for courage, strength, valor, and endurance. The skin was no longer pink here – it had healed over a long time ago. Juhani recognized this first and bowed to him; Bastila and Cortessa almost instantaneously followed suit. The Wookiee nodded, growling a low greeting.

"Step inside," he said. "But be aware that the Chieftain is guarded by hundreds. Perhaps not by the guards in the room, but by his tribe as well. So watch your tongue, human."

Cortessa paused, gazing up at him, before she barked in Shryiiwook, "Is it appropriate to speak the local dialect?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You'd better," he snarled. "Human ignorance here will be intolerable."

Cortessa's eyes flashed. "How do you expect us to know everything if you never open up?" she asked sharply.

He let out a guttural roar – soft, but a most definite warning. "I am not privileged to harm you, human, as you are a Sacred Mother, but do not test my patience."

Cortessa scowled, throwing Bastila a smoldering glance. Bastila smiled weakly and gently nudged her inside the doorway. The guard's wary eye followed them, and he grunted once they were through the door.

"Bow to the exalted one," he murmured after her. "Be sure to hold your tongue. Chuundar is not as forgiving or lenient as I am."

Cortessa stood up straighter as she walked, though it pained her greatly. She strode through a short hallway decorated with elaborate wicker paintings and baskets, lit with flaming torches and guarded on either end by two more surly-looking Wookiees. She reached the other side, stepped through, and froze.

The Chieftain's quarters were elaborate. Colorful orbs hung from the ceilings, giving off faint but warm light; the walls and floors were made of smooth, tightly-bound branches, polished to perfection; guards stood in pairs in the corners of the room ("Czerka guards!" Juhani gasped. "What in the world are they doing here?"); small, carefully-crafted shelves lined one wall, stacked with treasures and wicker baskets; and then, Cortessa saw with a sinking sensation in her gut, were three force cages.

One of the cages was empty except for a very old corpse that had almost completely rotted down to the bone. The middle one held Zaalbar, a foaming, moaning, quivering, hairy mass, rocking slowly back and forth with his hands and feet bound tight. Patches of dried blood made his fur appear darker in places.

Then Cortessa saw Carth. He looked worse than he ever had before in her presence. His face was pale and gaunt, his eyes shallow and blank, and his hair was nothing but a ratty mess. He hadn't shaven – his face looked a lot darker somehow. Mission was curled up in his arms, her cheek against his chest, eyes closed. Her lekku looked thin and pale, hanging limply from her head. She looked no better off than Carth.

Cortessa, without pausing to think, ran to them. Pain immediately seared up her legs and made her stomach clench, but she didn't stop until she reached them, where she collapsed to her knees and cried out.

Carth started, jolting Mission from her sleep. He stared for a moment, not believing his eyes, and then he reached out to try and touch her. The force shield gave a menacing crackle and he quickly drew his hand back, though his eyes were suddenly very bright.

"You came," he rasped, sounding not at all like himself. "We thought you wouldn't come. We were so worried… and when we heard what shape you were in when you arrived…"

Mission had begun to bawl, reaching out beseechingly to Cortessa, who sobbed dryly at the fact that it was only a shield separating her from her crew, her friends.

"Oh, Cortessa," Carth breathed, shaking his head as if he couldn't really grasp that she was there. He mumbled her name over and over, until Zaalbar stirred in his cell.

The Wookiee sat up, shook his mangy head, and looked around. Cortessa flashed him a wide, loving grin, and he roared at her in delight. "You have made it!" he bellowed. "You are now here and all is well! I was afraid I had betrayed my lifedebt!"

"You did nothing wrong, Zaalbar," Cortessa soothed.

"Corty!" Mission mewled.

Cortessa turned to her again and came as close to the cell as the force field would allow, feeling the soft currants of electricity tickle the skin on her face. "I missed you," she said. "I swear I'll get you out of here."

Carth opened his mouth, then slowly closed it, looking uneasy.

An icy voice cut through their excited chatter. It was amazing how cold and calculating the voice was, as it came in grating Shryiiwook. "Do not worry, human. You will have your time with your mate and pup… soon, but not now."

Cortessa's eyes snapped up and traveled for the first time to the front of the room. A great throne crafted out of wood stood there, with two smaller seats on either side. Wookiee guards sat in the smaller seats, and in the throne sat the Chieftain. He was tall and lean, with flowing silver fur that had been meticulously groomed, and sharp, almond-shaped amber eyes. Only a strand of hair against both temples was braided and beaded, left in a woven tassel at the ends. A harness had been wrapped around his shoulders and chest – this was also beautifully beaded. And on his breast was seared the insignia of royal tribal blood.

Cortessa paused a moment before she remembered that she must speak. She stumbled to her feet and bowed low. "Majesty," she growled in trembling Shryiiwook, recalling the rules she had been taught earlier that day. "Forgive my feeble human presence."

The Chieftain waved a hand in a bored way, signaling for her to be silent. "I care not for your tiring formalities today," he said lazily. He peered at her for a moment before he nodded. "I have never seen a human quite like you before. Tell me, are you a Jedi?"

"Yes, sir," Cortessa said, making sure to keep her head bowed.

"Look at me while I speak to you!" the Chieftain snapped, and then, swift as thought, his mood changed. "Ah, silly me. I forgot to introduce myself. Quite a leader indeed. I am Chuundar, Chieftain of this village."

Zaalbar rattled in his cage until he got close enough to the shield to be electrocuted into submission.

Cortessa swallowed the knot in her throat. "I am Cortessa, sir."

Chuundar snarled. "I know this. I am no fool. I summoned you here, not the other way around. Know your place!"

Cortessa shuddered. Bastila lay a comforting hand on her back by her shoulder. Juhani slipped her hand into Cortessa's and, while her ears lay flat against her skull, her eyes were wary and calculating.

Cortessa fixed her gaze above Chuundar's shoulder. "You summoned me for a quest, sir," she said monotonously.

Chuundar's lips peeled back from his teeth and he grinned a nasty grin. "Ah, yes," he murmured. "Let's talk about that."

------

**Author's Notes: **Whee… That was fun. I have no idea what I had going in my head in the beginning, but I guess crap happens. Cortessa's neck is just a suffering thing. First a rakghoul rips it apart and now a kinrath. What next? A selkath? Probably. Who knows. ANYWAY. Stay tuned. Or something.

And again, I AM SO FRIGGEN SORRY THESE CHAPTERS ARE TAKING SO LONG. PLEASE don't lose faith in me. I swear I haven't given it up. I swear I swear I SWEAR. I just got this HUGE breakthrough with my novel and I've been busy with camp, but I promise I'm not through with KOTOR fanfiction, or this fic. I promise. I PROMISE.

FaintlyAlarming- Thanks for taking the time. XD

SarahBearX- I think I'll give someone the habit of calling him that. Everyone needs a nickname. Huh.

Dante-Raven- Hahaha. Candy to the Rescue!

Dark Lord Daishi- Wouldn't you get all flustered? I know I would.

Greatstar - I always figured Zaalbar was more unstable than he let on. It somehow got into his character and now it's who he is.

Child-of-the-Dawn- Now we're screwed.

Sandra Evans- Guess we'll have to wait and see...

Ilea Dreike- No Candy yet. :(

Lunatic Pandora1- I do so like cookies.

Amme Moto- I always like to twist people in stories into what you don't usually see. I'm sure when he got to his planet he was flipping out. I mean, he's so loytal to his vows, and now he's being dragged to the place he had been BANISHED from! Or maybe I just look too deeply into things.

Anarchy's Ashes- Carth is stupid to go up against WOOKIEES.

Queenofinsanity- We'll have to wait and see about Canderous. And as for Cortessa looking a bit better... Haha. Definitely not. I'm lulling you into a false sense of security. Watch out.


End file.
